VOT         R  '    NOVELIST  PUBLISHING  CO.,    I  -NTTTil-fr    T7-/-w-r.T- 

V   V.^1^.    O.  ,  No.  30  Rose  Street.  \  JNll/ VV     YORK, 


NO.  138. 


Ty[uiiioiefBof;«''"i*y!«'P5' 


Tony  Tibbets,  the  drummer  boy,  at  the  battle  of  Gettysburg. 


THE  WAK,  LIBRARY. 


THE   DRUMMER   BOY; 


Out    wltli    tn<-    T>volltli     <«.ri>s. 

BY    MAJOR   WALTER  WILMOT, 

Author  of  ■'  Mission  RidRe."  "  Hariier's  Ferry,"  etc. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE     WAR     CORBESPOXDENT     AKD     HIS 
PRISONER. 

It  was  the  night  after  the  first  day's 
fight  at  Gettysburg. 

General  Hancock  had  already  joined 
the  troops  on  Cemetery  Hill,  having  been 
sent  by  General  Meade,  on  learning  the 
death  of  Reynolds,  to  assume  the  com- 
mand of  the  field  till  he  himself  could 
reach  the  front. 

In  conjunction  with  General  Howard, 
General  Hancock  had  immediately  pro- 
ceeded to  post  troops  and  repel  an  attack 
on  the  right  flank. 

The  attack,  however,  had  been  but 
feebly  made,  and  so  was  promptly  re- 
pulsed. 

At  nightfall  the  little  army  on  the  hill, 
that  had  so  gallantly  sustained  itself 
through  the  toil  and  peril  of  the  day, 
was  cheered  by  the  arrival  of  General 
Slocum,  with  the  Twelfth  Corps,  and 
General  Sickles,  with  a  part  of  the  Third. 

With  Slocum  there  had  come  a  young 
man, of  good  build,  a  resolute  look,  and, 
withal,  a  military  air.  He  was  mounted 
upon  a  magnificent  horse,  wore  heavy 
riding  boots,  a  military  cloak  and  slouch 
hat ;  and  yet  this  belligerant-looking 
young  man  was  not,  in  a  strict  military 
sense,  connected  with  the  army. 

Who  and  what  he  was  we  shall  soon 
discover. 

In  a  uiarvelously  short  time  he  had 
possessed  himself  of  the  situation— knew, 
all  that  had  transpired  from  early  dawn 
when  Reynolds  pushed  forward  to  Get- 
tysburg, and  found  Bufort  with  his  cav- 
alry engaging  the  enemy,  till  dewey  eve, 
when  the  attack  on  the  right  flank  had 
been  repulsed. 

It  had  been  a  day  full  of  great  possibil- 
ities on  the  rebel  side. 

Lee,  for  once,  seemed  to  have  failed  to 
grasp  the  situation. 

The  battle  was  bound  to  come  off  at 
Gettysburg,  and  even  at  this  early  hour 
General  Howard  had  foreseen  the  great 
advantage  that  must  come  to  the  party 
who  could  hold  that  commanding  point, 
Cemetery  Hill. 

He  had  left  one  division  of  the  Eleventh 
Corps  to  fortify  and  hold  the  eminence, 
while  with  the  other  two  divisions  he 
went  forward  to  assist  the  First  Corps. 

When  Reynolds  was  killed  General 
Howard  came  in  command  of  the  forces 
then  in  the  field. 

The  main  portion  of  tho  Union  Army 
was  scattered  along  the  various  roads 
leading  to  Gettysburg. 


Lee  had  his  whole  army  at  hand. 

A  vigorous  forward  movement,  such  as 
usually  characterized  the  Confederate 
general,  would  at  almost  any  hour  during 
the  day  have  carried  Cemetery  Hill. 

Howard  realized  this,  and  as  the  day 
wore  on  he  slowly  withdrew  his  whole 
force  to  the  hill,  and  got  the  two  corps  in 
readiness  to  repel  any  assault. 

That  hill  must  be  held,  or  the  battle 
was  lost  in  its  inception. 

If  it  could  be  held,  Lee  must  do  the 
aggressive  work. 

Then  the  boys-in-blue  would  have  an 
opportunity  to  pay  back  the  debt  that 
had  remained  since  Fredericksburg. 

When  Hancock  arrived  and  took  com- 
mand he  approved  all  that  Howard  had 
done. 

This,  in  brief,  was  the  story  of  the  first 
day. 

The  man  who  had  accompanied  Gen- 
eral Hancock  was  a  prince  of  coi-respond- 
ents.  He  had  seen  hard  service,  and 
was  always  at  the  front  in  time  of  danger. 
Through  the  battle-smoke  he  had  been 
known  to  dash,  regardless  of  flying  bul- 
lets and  bursting  shells,  doing  the  duty 
of  an  aide  and  carrying  important  infor- 
mation that  might  possibly  decide  the 
fate  of  the  day. 

In  those  troublous  times  the  duties  of 
war  correspondents  were  fraught  with 
peril  and  privation.  They  were  hated 
by  the  Confederates,  because  %f  the 
stanch  patriotism  of  the  papers  by  which 
they  were  employed. 

More  than  one  volume  has  been  given 
to  the  reading  public  in  which  the  army 
correspondent  tells  his  story  of  capture 
and  life  in  a  rebel  prison-pen. 

They  had  this  possibility  before  their 
eyes,  as  well  as  death  on  the  battle-field, 
yet,  to  their  credit  be  it  said,  no  man 
was  known  to  flinch  from  his  duty. 

The  news  which  he  had  picked  up  was 
condensed  as  much  as  possible. 

All  very  good,  but  how  was  it  to  be 
sent  to  his  paper  in  New  York,  with  the 
wires  down  in  all  directions  ? 

That  was  a  problem. 

Byington  had  solved  many  a  more 
knotty  question  in  his  time.  Like  Alex- 
ander, he  would  cut  the  Gordian  knot. 

Having  learned  all  it  was  possible  to 
find  out,  he  once  more  mounted  his  horse 
and  galloped  away  in  the  darkness,  mut- 
KM-ing  to  himself  as  he  sped  over  the 
ground  : 

"Now,  how  to  get  the  news  to  New 
York  before  any  of  the  other  fellows, 
that's  the  question." 

"Wires  cut  for  miles  in  every  direction, 
so  they  say,  and  of  course  it's  true— leave 
Stuart  and  his  cavalry  alone  for  that." 

"All  the  instruments  destroyed  too. 
Hum  !  That's  worse.  Might  manage 
somehow  about  the  wires ;  but,  deuce 
take  it!  I  can't  make  a  new  instrument, 
nor  procure  one  either,  at  a  moment's 
notice. " 

"But  pshaw  !  some  operator  has  had 
sense  and  wit  enough  to  conceal  his  in- 
strument, and  if  there's  one  to  be  found 
within  a  radius  of  twenty  miles,  I'll  have 
it.  Halloo  !  what's  that  place  ahead  ? 
I'm  sure  1  see  a  light." 


"Yes,  a  farm* house.  Hope  the  rebs 
ain't  in  possession  there ;  but  of  course 
they're  not;  this  side  at  least  is  held  by_ 
the  blue  coats.  I  must  stop  and  see 
I  what  I  can  find  out.  I  may  have  struck 
the  very  spot  I'm  in  search  of." 

As  the  gate  had  been  torn  from  it's 
hinges,  without  dismounting  he  rode 
into  the  front  yard,  and  having  reached 
the  door  gave  a  sounding  knock  with  the 
handle  of  his  heavy  riding-whip. 

The  alarm  .seemed  to  cause  a  general 
disturbance  within,  for  he  could  hear  the 
sound  of  hurrying  footsteps  and  excited 
voices  ;  but,  after  another  and  more  im- 
patient knock,  a  white-robed  form  ap- 
peared at  the  window  just  over  his  head. 

It  was  a  woman's  form,  and  a  woman's 
voice  that  demanded,  in  a  somewhat  ex- 
cited and  querulous  tone,  what  in  the 
world  he  wanted  now  f 

"  My  dear  madam,"  answered  the  horse- 
man, in  a  polite  and  persuasive  tone, 
"pardon  my  unseasonable  visit,  I  beg: 
but  the  fact  is,  I  am  most  anxious  to 
procure  a  guide  to  the  nearest  town  or 
railway  station  that  the  rebels  have  not 
visited,  and  where  there's  likely  to  be  a 
telegraph  ofllce." 

"There  ain't  no  sich  town  in  these 
parts,  stranger  —  they've  been  every- 
where." 

"You're  sure  ?" 

"  Sartin  sure." 

"Well,  then,  I   must  have  a  guide  to 
put  me  in  the  way  of  finding  a  town  or  • 
station  not  in  these  parts,  if  they've  been     , 
everywhere  about  here." 

"  There  ain't  nobody  in  this  'ere  house  •  I 
to  show  you  the  way,  mister."  Then,  I 
looking  back  into  the  room  :  "  What '?  I 
what  d'ye  say  ?"  I 

A  man's  voice  murmured  a  question.    ' 
which,  once  more  looking  out,   she  re- 
peated : 

"  I  say,  mister,  who  be  you,  any  way  ?" 

"I'm  connected  with  the  press,  and 
must  get  a  dispatch  through  to  New  York 
to-night— do  you  understand  ? 

"The  press!  What  kind  of  a  press  is 
it  now  ?" 

"The  newspaper  press,  madam;  the 
newspaper  press." 

"Oh!"  And  again  she  turned  back, 
and  there  was  a  scarcely  audible  murmur, 
to  which  she  answered,  "Hey?"  and 
then,  on  it's  being  repeated,  called  out  to 
the  stranger : 

"I  say,  you  ain't  no  rebel,  be  you  ?" 

"No— no,  of  course  not ;  I  tell  you  I'm 
a  newspaper  correspondent,  and  connect- 
ed with  the  Army  of  the  Potomac." 

"Will  you  pay  for  a  guide  ?" 

"Yes,  yes  ;  let  me  in,  and  we  can  easily 
settle  that  business." 

"Better  let  him  in,  Nancy,"  now  inter- 
rupted the  unseen  man,  in  quite  a  dis- 
tinct tone  of  voice  ;  "reckon  he's  all  right  I 
any  way."  And  so,  a  minute  or  two  later,  j 
the  door  was  opened,  and  the  war  cor- 
respondent sprang  from  his  horse  and 
hurried  into  the  house. 

Behind   the  woman  who   had  opened 
the  door  stood  a  great  burly  man,  in  his 
shirt  sleeves,  who,   without  further  ado,  • 
at  once  hinted  to  the  correspondent  that, 
for  good  pay,  he  was  ready  to   put   him 


fycu 


THT1  WAR  LIBRARY. 


the  riglit  road  to  any  point  he 
anted  to  go  to. 

'And  how  far  is  it  to  the  nearest 
liere  I  am  likely  to  find  a  telegraph 
nice  in  running  order?"  asked  the 
irrespondeut. 
'  Can't  say  for  sartin,  sir,"  rejoin- 
the  other;  "hut  the  one  at  Ox- 
il  —  and     that's    beyond     Mount 
easant — mought  be  all  right." 
'Confound  it  all,  if  I  only  had  an  in- 
ument,  and  knew  where  the  breaks 
the  wires  were,  I'd  be  all  right 
self." 

Pile  woman  looked  at  the  man,  and 
u   looked  at   the  woman,  the 
tier  nodded,  and   the  woman  hast- 
1  to  say: 

So  if  you  had  an  instrument, 
u'd  be  all  right,  eh  ?" 

Yes— that  is,  if  I  had  some  one 
help  me  repair  the  wires." 

■  If  me  an'  my  ole  man'U  put  you 
the  way  of  all  that,  what'U  you 
e  us  ?" 

■Fifty  dollars." 

■  That's  the  cheese,  by  hokey,"ex- 
'med  the  man,  "  and  I — " 

•  Shut  up  you  old  fool;"  snapped 
wife,  then  turning  to  the  impa- 
ut  correspondent,  "  Jist  double  it, 
ster,  and  its  a  bargain." 
'  All  right,  I'll  double  it,"  he  said, 
f  you  only  do  something,  and  do  it 
once." 

But  can  ye  pay  the  cash — can  ye 
ow  up  the  greenbacks  ?'' 
Of  course." 

What  mought  your  name  be, 
ung  man,  any  how  ?"  asked  the 
sbaud. 

Byington,  and    I    represent    the 
w  York  Tribune." 
Hum." 

All'  you'll  surely  pay  us  ?"  asked 
woman  anxiously. 
Yes,  yes.  How  many  times  do  you 
ut  me  to  tell  you  so  ?" 
Then,  in  the   first  place,  go  iuto 
little   room   at  the  head  of  the 
IS,  and  look  under  the  bed  and 
wlui-t  you  can  find  there." 
yington  needed  no  second  hint, 
ill,-;-   three    steps    at    a    time,  he 
uded  up  the  stairs,  and  throwing 
u  the    door    of  the  little    room, 
)pped  upon    his  knees  and  peer- 
under  tlie  bed. 

^t  first  he  could  see  nothing,  as 
only  light  came  from  a  tallow 
[(He,  wliich  stood  on  the  upper 
1  table;  but  presently  he  caught 
lit  of  tlic  dim  outlines  of  what 
meil  to  be  a  human  form,  and 
:ckly  seizing  a  leg,  he  exclaimed: 
'  Come  out  of  that,  you  miserable 
gar ;  come  out  I  say  !' ' 
Olf,  Lord  !  let  go  will  you?" 
laned  a  muffled  voice,  "  I  ain't  no 
Her,  never  shot  a  rebel  in  all  my 
.  Juf't  let  me  alone  will  you  ?  I 
er  did  you  any  harm." 
That's  all  right;  but  come  out 
ra  under  the  bed;  I  want  to  get  a 
)d  look  at  such  a  born  hero  as  I 
you  must  be,"  and  he  gave  the 
Li  a  slight  jerk. 
'  Let  me  alone,  I  say,  or—  or  I  shall 


be  tempted  to  do  something  rash.  I 
tell  you,  mister,  I'm  a  dangerous 
man,  if  lonceget  my  courage  up.''' 

"I  dare  say ;  but  I  fancy  the  trouble 
will  be,  to  get  your  courage  up.  So 
come  out  o'  that,  I  tell  you,"  and 
with  a  sudden  jerk  the  war  corre- 
spondent landed  his  prisoner  in  the 
middle  of  the  Hoor. 

He  was  a  man  of  medium  size,  and 
fairly  well  dressed.  His  face  was 
pale  as  ashes;  his  lips  were  bloodless 
and  trembled  convulsively.  One 
hand  clutched  something,  which, 
without  knowing  it,  he  pressed  tight- 
ly to  his  breast. 

Buyiugton's  eyes  caught  that 
something,  and  he  at  once  gave  a  cry 
of  triumphant  joy. 

CHAPTER  II. 

TONY  TIBBITS— BYTNGTON  CREATES  A 
SENSATION  IN  THE  WAR  OFFICE. 

"An  instrument !"  exclaimed  By- 
ington, "you  are  an  operator  then." 

"Ye — ye— yes,"  faltered  the  poor 
frightened  fellow. 

"All  right !  Now  then,  just  shake 
yourself  together  a  little,  and  be  a 
new  man.  Here,  take  a  drop  of  this; 
it  will  help  you,"  and  he  handed  him 
a  pocket  flask. 

The  operator  seized  it  eagerly,  and 
placed  the  nozzle  to  his  trembling 
lips.  He  nearly  half  emptied  it, 
and  then  returned  it  to  the  owner 
with  a  sigh  of  regret. 

"Now  then,"  said  Byington,  "I'm 
a  newspaper  man,  and  I  propose  to 
engage  your  valuable  services  for 
the  next  two  days,  at  least.  Do  you 
understand?" 

"Yes;  but  what  good  can  I  do 
you  ?  The  lines  are  all  down  in  every 
direction." 

"I  know  it,  and  I  propose  to  put 
them  up  again.  At  any  rate,  I 
propose,  within  the  next  hour  or  so, 
to  open  communication  with  Wash- 
ington, and  so  reach  New  York." 

"How  the  deuce  can  you  doit? 
For  the  life  of  me  I  don't  see." 

"The  man  down  stairs  will  help 
me.  And  then  I  have  a  construction 
squad,  they  are  now  with  Slocum's 
corps.  I  shall  send  for  them  at 
once." 

"All  right.  My  instrument  wants 
fixing  up  a  little,  and  I'll  be  doing 
that  till  you  want  me." 

"I  shall  find  you  here  then,  eh?" 

"Lord,  yes.  As  long  as  I  know 
you  are  not  one  of  those  fire-eating, 
throat-cutting  Southerners,  I'm  with 
you  eyery  time." 

"You  don't  like  the  Southeners 
then?" 

"Like  'em  !  not  much,  I  guess, 
they've  frightened  me  almost  to 
death,  more  than  once  to-day,  and  I 
thought  sure,  my  time  had  come, 
when  you  knocked  on  the  door  a  little 
while  back." 

"There  are  no  rebels  in  this  direc- 
tion just  now,  my  good  fellow,  you're 
safe  enough  on  that  head.  So  don't 
fret  yourself.     And   now,  as  I'm   in 


a  desperate  hurry,  I'll  leave  you 
for  a  while,"  and  the  energetic  cor- 
respondent hastened  down  stairs, 
where  the  farmer  and  his  wife  were 
waiting  for  him. 

"You  found  what  you  wanted,  I 
reckon,"  said  the  woman,  interrog- 
atively. ! 

"Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "I'm  all 
right  so  far,  and  now  tell  me,  one  of 
you,  in  which  direction  does  the 
telegraph  wire  run; and  where  can 
I  strike  it  at  the  nearest  point  ?" 

"It  runs  toward  Oxford,  an'  crosses 
my  private  lane,  just  down  below 
here  a  piece,"  said  the  farmer. 

"Good;  now  who  can  I  send  back 
for  a  squad  of  men  to  help  me  ?" 

"Back  where  ?" 

"To  the  point  where  the  Twelfth 
cori)s   of  the  Union  army  is  lying. " 

"Huro,  who  can  he  send,  wife?" 

"Uunno,  'less  he  sends  Tony." 

"Tony  !  Who's  Tony  ?"  asked  By- 
ington. 

"He's  our 'dopted  boy,"  explained 
the  farmer,  "we  took  liim  from  the 
sylum  to  bring  up  and  make  a 
farmer  of." 

"How  old  is  he?" 

"Dunno  'sactly,  may  be  fourteen 
or  so." 

"Is  he  bright?  Does  he  under- 
stand what  you  tell  him  ?" 

"You  bet.  Mister.  He's  just  the 
cutest  boy  that  ever  hoed  a  hill  o' 
corn." 

"Call  him  then." 

"He  sleeps  out  in  that  thar  shed; 
but  I'll  roust  him  out  in  a  minute," 
and  the  farmer  hurried  into  an  ad- 
joining room,  which  looked  more  like 
a  idace  for  storing  lumber,  than  a 
sleei)ing  apartment. 

"  Tony— Tony  Tibbits!"  he  called 
out,  "  wake  up  and  dress  yerself  and 
be  mighty  quick  about  it  too;  I  don't 
wanter  be  kept  waitin',  ye  know." 

"  Wy,  'tain't  mornin'  yet,  Mr. 
Gripper,"  responded  a  drowsy  voice. 
"  Surely  it  can't  be." 

"  Who  said  it  was  mornin'?" 
snai)ped  the  farmer.  "You've  just 
got  ter  get  up  and  do  a  chore  for  a 
gentleman — carry  a  note  for  him, 
that's  all." 

"  Where  to?" 

"To  the  army,  the  Union  army, 
an'  you  jist  want  ter  look  out  an'  not 
get  killed;  d'ye  understand?" 

"  To  the  army!"  and  the  boy  sprang 
out  of  his  nest  with  alacrity. 

He  could  be  heard  groping  about 
for  a  minute  or  so,  and  then  came  the 
startled  cry: 

"  My  clothes — who's  been  carryin' 
off  my  clothes?  There's  nothin'  here 
but  just  one  stocking. " 

"Lord  defend  nsl"  exclaimed  the 
woman,  with  a  groan,  "has  them 
army  thieves  carried  oft  the  nice  jack- 
et and  pants  I  made  you,  Tonv  Tib- 
bets?" 

"They're  gone,  anyway,"  moaned 
the  boy. 

"  The  villains!  the  scoundrels!  I 
don't  know  what  in  the  world  you'll 
do  now,  boy,   unless   you  go  naked, 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


for  sartin  sure  we  can't  afford  ter  get 
yer  any  more.  Well,  it's  a  good 
thing  it's  summei-,  anyhow." 

"  Great  heavens!"  exclaimed  By- 
ington,  fuming  with  impatience, 
"  isn't  there  anything  in  the  house 
that  the  boy  can  wear?  Surely  there 
•nustbe." 

"I   dunno;   you   see,  sir, 'bout  an 

our  ago   a  dozen  or   more  men   as 

laimed  to  be  Union   soldiers  came 

ere  and  carried  off  almost  every- 

.iiiug  they  could  lay  hands  on,  ther 

pesky  thieves.      We   wouldn't  hev 

let  'em  in,  only    we    supposed   they 

were  tlie  same  ones  as    brought  a 

wounded  drummer  boy  here  a  little 

while  before." 

"A  drummer  boy!  How  big  is 
he?" 

"  'Bout  ther  size  o'  Tony,  I  reck- 
on." 

"Then  that's  just  the  ticket;  give 
Tony  his  clothes;  he  can  return  them 
before  the  drummer  will  want  them 
again,  I  fancy." 

"  Reckon  he  can,  sir,  for  if  I'm  not 
greatly  mistaken,  the  poor  fellow  '11 
never  want  'em  again." 

"That's  bad;  but  hurry  up,  do." 

The  woman  hastened  from  the 
oom. 

She  soon  returned  with  the  poor 
Jrummer's  coat,  pants  and  hat,  and 
also  his  stockings  and  shoes,  all  of 
which  she  tossed  through  the  door- 
way to  Tony,  with  the  brief  com- 
mand: 

"There,  get  into  them." 

While  the  boy  was  obeying  this 
order  Byington  was  writing  on  a  leaf 
of  his  note  book. 

"There,"  he  said,  when  he  had 
finished  and  Tony  had  presented  him- 
self, "  take  that  to  the  nearest  point 
where  you  can  find  a  Union  picket, 
and  they'll  see  that  it  is  forwarded 
to  its  address.  Now  hurry ;  but  stay, 
you  may  want  the  countersign.    It  is 

"  and  he  whispered  a  word  in 

the  boy's  ear. 

Tony, who,  now  that  he  was  dressed 
in  the  neat  uniform  af  the  Union 
army,  looked  like  a  brave  and  noble 
little  chap,  nodded  intelligently,  and 
after  he  had  listened  to  a  solemn 
word  of  warning  from  the  farmer's 
wife,  he  started  off. 
'  Byington  spent  the  next  hour  or 
so  in  making  up  his  dispatches.  At 
the  end  of  that  time  a  dozen  men 
presented  themselves  at  the  door. 

They  were  the  party  he  had  sent 
for. 

"Where's    the    boy?"  asked    the 

ar  correspondent. 
.      "  What  boy?"  said  one  of  the  par- 

"  Why,  the  one  I  sent  with  the 
uote." 

"  Haven't  seen  any  boy.  The  note 
•was  brought  to  our  quarters  by  an 
orderly.  He  said  the  general  sent 
him  with  it." 

"  I  sincerely  hope  that  no  harm  has 
come  to  the  li'tile  fellow."  said  By- 
ington, earnestly. 

"No   fear   of  tlnit,"   grunted  the 


farmer.  "  He  can  take  care  of  him- 
self easy  enough,  and  we  shall  see 
him,  I  reckon,  long  afore  mornin'." 

Byington  now  gave  his  instruc- 
tions to  the  squad  of  repairers,  and 
with  the  farmer  for  guide,  they 
started  out. 

They  were  obliged  to  follow  the 
line  for  a  distance  of  more  than  ten 
miles;  but  in  an  hour  or  so  from  the 
time  they  had  started  the  wires  were 
all  repaired,  and  connected  with  the 
instrument  under  Byington's  control, 
when,  click ! — it  was  in  complete 
working  order. 

The  shrewd  correspondent's  first 
move  was  to  make  an  arrangement 
for  monopolizing  the  wire  for  the 
next  two  days  as  the  price  of  having 
repaired  it.  Having  done  this  to  his 
satisiaction,  he  sent  his  first  dis- 
patch. 

It  was  the  rule  at  that  time  that  no 
dispatch  from  the  front,  or  a  battle 
field,  could  go  to  its  destination  ex- 
cepting by  way  of  the  War  Depart- 
ment, so  the  indefatigable  Byington's 
dispatch  to  the  New  York  ■  Tribune 
was  first  read  there,  and  it  cresited  a 
profound  sensation. 

President  Lincoln  was  called  up, 
and  rushed  to  the  war  oflice  little 
more  than  half  dressed. 

"What  about  this  battle  ?"  he  de- 
manded over  the  wire. 

Byington  promptly  answered  the 
question,  and   added  his  signature. 

"Who  is  Byington?"  Mr.  Lincoln 
next  inquired. 

"Ask  Secretary  Welles,  he's  from 
Connecticut  and  knows  me,"  was  the 
reply. 

"Send  us  more,"  was  Lincoln's 
next  dispatch. 

"On  tlicse  conditions,"  was  the  an- 
swer, "that  you  send  mj^  former  dis- 
patch immediately  to  the  Trihmie  ex- 
clusively, and  all  others  as  soon  as 
read." 

"Agreed." 

And  under  this  stipulation  was 
sent  forwai-d  an  account  of  the  battle 
from  beginning  to  end;  while  other 
war  correspondents  were  racing  then- 
jaded  horses  across  Pennsylvania 
with  news  a  day  old. 

*  Byington  offered  his  telegraph  to 
General  Meade;  and  the  commander 
of  the  Union  forces  gladly  availed 
himself  of  the  opportunity  to  renew 
communications  with  Washington. 


CHAPTER  111. 

TONY      TIBBITS      IN     A      PKCITLIAR 
POSITION. 

And  now  to  follow  the  fortunes  of 
Tony  Tibbitts,  who,  without  any  pre- 
meditation on  his  part,  suddenly 
found  himself  in  the  uniform  of  one 
of  Uncle  Sam's  drummers. 

After  leaving  the  house  of  Farmer 


*  This  incident  was  an  actual  fact.  Mr.  A. 
H.  Byington  belonged  to  Norwalk,  Conn.,  and 
was  the  war  correspondent  of  the  New  York 
Tribune.  He  was  the  very  first  to  send  north 
the  report  of  the  great  victory  at  Gettysburg. 


Gripper  with  Byington's  note,  he 
took  the  shortest  cut  to  Eock  creekj 
and  then  followed  its  bank  until  he 
came  opposite  the  hill  occupied  by 
the  Twelfth  corps. 

Here  he  turned,  and  was  just  mak- 
ing his  way  through  a  clumj)  of  un- 
derbrush on  the  hillside,  when  he 
was  brought  to  a  stand  by  the  per- 
emptory challenge. 

"Who  goes  there?" 

Tony  didn't  understand  the  regu- 
lar formula  used  on  such  occasions; 
and  so  uttered  in  reply  the  words  that 
came  most  naturally  to  his  lips. 

"I'm  a  friend,  Mr.  Soldier — true 
blue,  you  bet.     Don't  shoot." 

"Advance  friend,  and  give  the 
countersign,"  was  the  next  peremp- 
tory command. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Tony,  at  once 
remembering  what  Byington  had  told 
him,  and  hastening  forward,  he  gave 
the  countersign  with  all  the  assur- 
ance of  a  veteran. 

"Eight,  pass  on.  But  hold  up, 
what  the  deuce  are  you,  only  a  drum- 
mer— doing  outside  the  lines  at  this 
time  of  night  ?" 

"  I've  brought  a  note  for  the  gen- 
eral," said  Tony. 

"The  deuce  you  have,  where  did 
you  get  it?" 

"A  man  gave  it  to  me  atGripper's 
farm-house,  down  yonder." 

"Let  me  see  it?" 

Tony  handed  him  the  note. 

The  sentinel  regarded  it  gravely 
for  a  moment,  then  looked  searching- 
ly  at  the  boy,  and  at  last  yelled  for 
the  corporal  of  the  guard,  who  in  due 
time  presented  himself. 

"What  is  it,  Pender  ?"  he  asked. 

The  sentinel  told  his  stoiy,  and 
turned  over  both  the  boy  and  letter 
to  the  non-commissioned  oflflcer,  who, 
in  turn,  presented  them  to  the  cap- 
tain of  his  comininy. 

The  caj)tain  after  questioning  the 
young  messenger,  ordered  him  to  roll  ) 
himself  up  in  a  blanket  and  go  to 
sleep,  between  two  rough  looking, 
but  good  uatured  soldiers,  whom  he 
ordered  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  boy 
until  he  received  some  instruction 
regarding  him  from  headquarters, 
whither  he  at  once  dispatched  the  \ 
note  by  an  orderly.  And  so  Tony, 
much  to  his  astonishment,  and  not  a 
little  to  his  alarm,  suddenly  found 
himself  a  sort  of  prisoner  of  war,  in 
the  hands  of  the  blue-coated  soldiers. 

But  after  all  Tony  was  aphilosO' 
pher,  and  thought  to  himself— 

"  Well,  I  hain't  done  anything 
wrong,  no  how,  so  they'll  have  to  let 
me  go  in  the  morning,  and  I'd  just  as 
lieve  sleep  here  as  in  old  Gripper's 
shed,  that's  more  out  doors  than  ii'. 
the  house  any  day,"  and  thus  think 
iug  he  went  to  sleep. 

He  was  roused  in  the  morning  bj 
the  hurried  command.  Fall  in  !  Fall 
in  !  and  saw,  as  he  started  up,  a  col- 
umn of  troops  rapidly  changing  theii 
position. 

As  he  stood  there  looking  aUou 
him  with  a  bewildered  stare,  a  gray 


THE  WAR  LIBRABY. 


bearded  old  soldier  suddenly  thrust 
drum  into  his  hands,  with  the  hur- 
ied  words: 

"  Here,  bub,  this  is  more  in  your 
line  than  mine,  just  give  it  particular 
fits,  its  bettr  music  to  the  boys' 
(sars  than  dying  greans ;  and  I  say, 
lon't  stand  there  as  if  you  were  a- 
going  to  take  root,  but  just  drive 
on  for  the  other  side  of  the  hill.  By 
Tove  !  I'd  take  you  for  a  raw  re- 
mit if  your  uniform  didn't  tell  a 

Tony,  from  very  fear  began  beat- 
g  the  drum  with  might  and  main, 
and  if  he  didn't  succeed  in  get- 
ting much  music  out  of  it,  he  made 
noise  enough,  and  that  seemed  to  be 
the  most  essential  point  just  then. 
At  the  same  time  he  hurried  for- 
ward, as  he  had  been  ordered  to  do, 
and  for  a  while  kept  pretty  well 
up  with  the  men  with  whom  he  had 
passed  a  portion  of  the  night,  and 
some  of  whose  faces  he  recognized. 
But  soon  he  became  confused  by 
all  that  was  ])assing  around  him, 
the  heavy  tramp  of  armed  men,  the 
neigh  of  the  war  horse,  the  harsh 
1-attle  of  the  wheels  of  artillery  hur- 
rying to  their  stations,  the  voice  of 
the  bugle,  the  roll  of  the  drum, 
and  all  the  indescribable  tumult  of 
preparaiioii. 

From  tiie  point  where  he  now 
found  himself,  he  saw  the  various 
corps  of  the  army  as  they  arrived 
and  were  moved  to  their  positions 
on  Cemetery  Hill  and  the  ridge  that 
extended  southeast  and  southwest; 
and  as  if  by  magic,  he  saw  batteries 
planted  and  breastworks  thrown  up. 
Faster  and  faster  the  troops  assem- 
bled, and  by  seven  o'clock  the  second 
and  tifth  corps  with  the  rest  of  the 
I  third  had  reached  the  ground,  and 
now  the  skiimishing  began,  but  as 
yet  no  severe  conflict  took  place. 

Tony  continued  to  gaze  upon  all 
that  was  passing  around  him  as  if 
fascinated,  and  presently  forgot  even 
to  beat  his  drum. 

"Out  o'ther  way  there,  bub  !"  and 
a  span  of  spirited  horses,  attached 
to  a  caisson  swept  madly  by. 

But  when  the  team  was  gone, 
Tony  was  no  longer  standing  where 
it  had  found  him— a  hand  had  reach- 
ed down  from  the  wagon,  and  the 
next  instant  the  boy,  drum  and  all, 
were  jerked  upward,  and  placed  be- 
side the  driver. 

Tony  regarded  the  powerful  man 
with  a  look  of  astonishment. 

"  There's  no  use  in  gettin'  killed 
when  you  won't  be  even  so  much  as 
thanked  for  it,"  said  the  driver, 
"  time  enough  for  that  when  you 
can't  help  yourself." 

"  What,  was  I  likely  to  get  killed 
where  I  was  standing?"  asked  Tony. 
"  Well,  I  reckon,"  was  the  reply, 
then  regarding  the  boy  curiously; 
"  What  regiment  and  corps  do  you 
belong  to  ?" 

"  What  did  you  say,  sir?" 
"  I  asked    what    was    your    com- 
mand ?" 


«I_I  don't  know,"  stammered 
poor  Tony. 

"Well,  here's  a  pretty  go,"  mut- 
tered the  driver,  as  he  brought  his 
horses  to  a  stand,  "  a  bright  look- 
ing boy  enough,  and  yet  don't  know 
his  own  regiment.  Jump  down,  bub." 
Tony  quickly  descended  to  the 
ground. 

The  driver's  attention  was  now 
directed  another  way— an  officer  was 
ordeiing  him  to  move  the  caisson 
further  to  the  right,  thus  the  boy 
was  left  once  more  to  himself— alone 
in  a  great  crowd,  bent  on  death  and 
destruction. 

Strange  to  say,  not  a  thought  of 
getting  away  from  that  pandemo- 
nium of  a  place,  even  entered  his 
head.  In  a  passive  sort  of  sense  he 
began  to  consider  himself  as  belong- 
ing there— as  a  part  of  the  tremen- 
dous panorama  that  was  continually 
unfolding  itself  before  the  eye. 

The  great  body  of  the  rebels  were 
posted  on  the  opposite  ridge,  north 
of  the  town,  distant  from  a  mile  to  a 
mile  and  a  half,  and  overlopping  the 
Federal  army  on  each  wing. 

The  roads  on  which  the  enemy 
would  desire  to  march  across  the 
valley  were  commanded  by  Meade's 
guns;  and  hence  General  Lee  must 
fight  with  the  hills  against  him. 
There  was  no  conceivable  approacli 
that  could  not  be  raked  and  crossed 
by  the  fire  of  the  Federal  cannon. 

The  reserve,  artillery,  and  all  the 
essentials  to  insure  victory  were  in 
position,  and  at  the  right  time. 

The  immense  cavalry  force,  too,  for 
once,  at  least,  was  present,  covering 
both  flanks  of  the  army,  and  ready 
for  constantly  harassing  the  enemy. 
The  latter,  we  may  here  say,  was 
a  new  and  encouraging  circumstance 
which  gave  confidence  to  the  men, 
while  it  aflbrded  security  to  the 
teams. 

The  southern  ends  of  the  two  di- 
verging ridges  or  lines  of  hills  on 
which  the  Federal  army  was  drawn 
up  terminated,  each,  in  a  steep, 
sugar-loaf  peak,  which  thoroughly 
protected  the  flanks.  To  attempt  to 
march  along  the  sides  of  these  ridges 
and  around  these  terminal  peaks, 
would  have  exposed  the  rebels  to 
the  danger  of  weakening  their  front 
so  greatly,  as  to  make  it  easy  for 
General  Meade  to  cut  oif  the  flanking 
force.  Hence,  a  battle  being  de- 
termined on,  there  was  no  alternative 
but  to  attack  the  Federal  position 
directly  in  front. 

For  once,  then,  in  the  history  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  the  enemy 
in  accepting  the  guage  of  combat  was 
compelled  to  fight  at  a  disadvantage. 
Tony  could  neither  see  nor  under- 
stand all  this,  but  he  did  see,  and  he 
could  interpret  the  exultant  looks 
which  animated  the  countenances  of 
all  about  him.  And  a  thrill  of  ex- 
citement agitated  his  own  breast, 
and  he  longed  to  take  some  other 
part  in  the  great  drama  about  to 
open,  than  that  of  a  mere  spectator. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

TONY    BECOMES    A   SOLDIER    ON    THE 
FIELD  OF  BATTLE. 

Skirmishing  continued,  and  now 
and  then  the  roar  of  a  great  gun 
broke  on  the  air;  but  the  real  con- 
flict seemed  as  far  off  as  ever. 

Eegiment  after  regiment  was  still 
pressing  foward  around  the  hill,  in  a 
ceaseless  stream,  and  all  at  once 
Tony  was  caught  up  by  the  hurrying 
mass  and  carried  onward  with  it 
toward  a  park  of  artillery,  which 
crowned  a  neighboring  eminence. 

Suddenly,  he  heard  a  hail,  thenex 
instant  he  was  jerked  to  one  sid( 
and  on  turning  round,  saw  the  gray 
bearded,  kindly  face  of  the  old  sol. 
dier  who  had  given  him  the  drum  a 
little  while  before,  looking  down  up- 
on him. 

"So,  my  lad,  here  you  are,  eh? 
Didn't  know  what  had  become  of 
yon.  Lost  your  command  in  the  ex- 
citement this  morning,  I  fancy.". 

"Hain't  got  any  command  to  lose," 
said  Tony  desperately,  "and  that's 
just  what  I  wish  I  had." 

"What's  that  he  says?"  asked  a 
good  natured,  pleasant  looking  Irish- 
man, coming  toward  them,  "hain't 
got  any  command  ?  Shure,  thin,  has 
your  wliole  regiment  been  wiped  out 
entirely?" 

"I  never  had  any  regiment,"  said! 
Tony. 

"Never  had  a  regiment !  Phat  did 
ye  have  thin  ?— a  battalion,  a  com- 
pany, or  phat?" 

"I  didn't  have  any  thing  at  all." 
"The  deuce  yc  didn't  !  then  what 
are  ye  doin'  in'thim  regimentals?" 
"Them  what?" 

"Kegimentals— uniform— clothes." 
"Oh,  the  man  who  sent  me  here 
had  me  put  them  on.  Some  fellows 
who  called  themselves  soldiers  forced 
tlieir  way  into  our  house  Jast  nigh 
after  I  had  gone  to  bed,  and  alonj 
with  a  great  many  other  things,  car 
ried  oti'  all  my  clothing,  so,  wher 
this  man  wanted  to  send  me  with  z 
letter  to  the  general,  he  told  me  to 
put  on  these." 

"And  to  whom  did  these  belong  to, 
my  boy?"  asked  the  old  soldier 
thoughtfully.  This  may  prove  to  be 
a  serious  matter  for  you,  or  for  some- 
body." 

"Oh,  divil  a  serious  matter  at  all 
will  it  be  for  ye,  me  boy,"  exclaimed 
Tim,  quickly;  "we'll  see  to  all  that; 
but  who  did  they  belong  to,  jist  ther 
same?" 

"  A  wounded  drummer  boy  who 
was  brought  to  our  house  early  in 
the  evening." 

"This  case  ought  to  be  reported  to 
the  officers  at  once,"  said  the  old 
soldier. 

"  To  the  deuce  wid  the  officers ! 
Corporal  Snowden,  shure,  'tis  yerself 
that  knows  they've  got  something  of 
more  importance  than  this  b'y  to 
think  av  jist  now." 

"You're  right  there,  Tim,  so  they 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


have.  Still,  we  ought  not  to  lose 
sight  of  the  lad." 

"Av  course  not.  We'll  keep  him 
wid  our  company.  Shuie,  'tis  an  il- 
igant  soldier  I'll  makeav  him,  ifhes 
only  put  in  me  charge." 

"Yes,"  said  the  corporal,  "we'll 
keep  him  with  us;  come  on,  boy," 
and  as  they  hurried  liim  along:  "By- 
the-wav,  what's  your  name?" 

"Tony." 

"Tonv  what?" 

"  Tibbits,  sir,  Tony  Tibbits."' 

"Tony  Tibbits!"  exclaimed  the 
Irishman;  "shure,  thin,  it's  an  ili- 
gaut  name,  almost  as  foine  as  me  own, 
and  that's  Tim  Cooney,  all  the 
worriild  over. " 

"  And  if  the  world  don't  know  it, 
it  won't  be  your  fault,  Tim,"  laughed 
the  corporal. 

"Yer  niver  said  a  thruer  word  in 
your  loife,  corporal." 

By  this  time  the  trio  had  reached 
a  somewhat  secluded  nook  on  the 
hillside,  where  a  portion  of  a  regi- 
ment had  installed  itself,  and  seemed, 
in  a  desultory  sort  of  way,  to  be  pre- 
paring breakfast. 

"How  are  you,  corporal — halloo, 
Tim,  me  boy  !"  called  out  at  least  a 
dozen  voices,  and  then  some  one 
asked: 

"Where  did  you  pick  up  the  kid?" 

"Is  that  yerself,  Billy  Dufiy?" 
said  Tim;  "thin  jist  luk  at  him  an' 
tell  me  is  he  an  old  soldier  or  not  ?" 

"He's  aijlaguey  young  soldier,  I 
should  say,"  laughed  Sergeant 
Small,  who  just  then  was  preparing 
to  swallow  a  cup  of  hot  cottee. 

"Av  course  he's  young,"  assented 
Tim,  but  that  ain't  phat  1  mean  at  all, 
for,  d'ye  see,  Peter  Small,  he  may  be 
a  voung  b'y  antl  yet  an  old  soldier. 
Phat  de  ye  say,  Billy  Duffy?" 

"He  looks  as  though  he'd  seen 
service,"  said  Billy,  with  a  wise  nod 
of  the  head. 

"An'  you,  Stephen  Huohes  ?" 

"He's  got  the  right  color  on  him," 
answered  Stephen,  critically. 

"I'd  like  to  see  how  he  handles  the 
drumsticks  before  I  give  an  opinion," 
said  Phil  McGiveney,  "  I've  a  boy  of 
me  own  about  his  age,  and  if  he  can't 
knock  Hail  Columbia  and  Yankee 
Doodle  out  of  a  drum  in  less  time  and 
in  better  style  than  any  other  drum- 
mer in  the  army,  why,  I  wouldn't  say 
so,  that's  all." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  Tommy  Glynn, 
and  at  least  half  a  dozen  otliers,"let's 
see  how  he  can  handle  the  sticks. 
Come,  bub,  just  hammer  away  for  us 
a  little." 

"Give  the  sheepskin  fits,  me  boy," 
said  Jimmy  Keenan,  with  an  encour- 
aging nod  and  a  wink. 

"1  can  pound  hard  enough,  if  that's 
all  you  want,"  said  Tony,  grasping 
the  two  sticks;  "but  as  for  making 
a7iy  music,  1  can't  do  it.  1  never  had 
a  (irmii  nr  :i  ]iair  of  ilruinsticlis  in  my 
hands  l.cl'inv    In-, lay   in  all    ni\   life." 

"What's  tliaf  hf  says  •^"  di'iiianded 
Joe  O'Brien;  "never  had  hold  of  a 
drum  before":'     Then    what    in    the 


world  is  he  doing  round  here  in  that 
uniform,  I'd  like  to  know." 

"Yes,"  said  Sergeant  Small,  turn- 
ing to  Snowden,  "where did  youpick 
up  the  lad,  corporal  ?  Let's  know  all 
about  it. " 

"Listen  to  me,  sergeant,  darlint," 
exclaimed  Tim  Cooney,  as  he  eagerlj- 
pressed  his  way  forward ;  "it's  well 
acquainted  I  am  wid  the  lad,  and  1 
can  tell  ye  his  story  as  aisy  as  ther 
praste  can  say  mass.  Hear  me  now." 

"Hold  up  a  moment,will  you, Tim? 
The  only  trouble  with  .you  is  that 
yon  ain't  a  priest  yourself;  you  were 
suicly  cut  out  for  one." 

"It's  li.^iitye  are,  sergeant.  Shure 
I  have  an  iliyant  gift  av  the  gab,  an' 
would  have  made  a  foine  praste  in- 
tircly;  but,  murtlier,  phat  would  Mrs. 
Cooney  and  tlie  gorsoous  have  done 

"Tliat's  more  than  I  can  tell  you. 
But  come,  lets  hear  what  the  cor- 
poral has  to  say." 

In  a  few  words  Corporal  Snowden 
told  all  he  knew  about  Tony  and  sat- 
isfactorily accounted  for  the  manner 
in  which  he  had  come  into  possess- 
ion of  the  drum.  Then,  without  in- 
vitation, Tim  told  a  beautiful  ro- 
mance about  the  young  adventurer, 
and  wound  up  by  proposing  that  the 
company  should  formally  adopt  him, 
and  that  he  should  at  once  be  in- 
stalled as  their  drummer. 

"The  very  thing!"  exclaimed 
Steve  Hughes,  "for  you  know  that 
our  drummer  is  in  the  hospit.al,  and 
is  to  receive  his  discharge  for  disa- 
bility, if  he  hasn't  got  it  already." 

"True  enough,"  said  Sergeant 
Small;  "but  then,  as  I  understand  it, 
the  boy  don't  know  any  more  about 
drumming  than  a  mule  about  sacred 
music." 

"That  don't  make  any  difference," 
said  Phil  MiGiveney,  quickly;  "he 
shall  know  all  about  it  in  less  than  a 
week;  I'll  teach  him  mvself." 

"What,  you,  Phil?" 

"Of  course;  didn't  I  make  a  musi- 
cian of  my  own  boy,  and  can't  1  do 
as  well  h\  another?" 

"That"  settles  it,"  cried  Duffy; 
"run  the  kid  over  to  Professor  Mc- 
Givenev  at  once." 

"Whiifs  all  this  talk  about?"  ask- 
ed a  fine  looking  officer,  of  some 
twenty-six  or  seven  years,  as  he  now 
approached  the  group. 

Sergeant  Small  started  to  his  feet, 
and  with  a  military  salute  entered 
into  an  explanation. 

"Hum,"  said  Captain  Ellsworth, 
when  he  had  finished.  "  I've  l.eard 
something  about  this  boy  before,  1 
fancy.  "  Then  turning  to  Tony: 
"  Did  you  enter  our  lines  in  the  night 
with  a  note  for  the  general  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  was  the  pi'ompt  reiily. 

"Who  sent  you?"  asked  the  Cap- 
tain. 

"A  man  who  came  to  our  house  on 
horseback,  sir." 

"  Where  is  your  house  ?" 

"  Down  the  creek  apiece— Parmer 
Grij)per's  place,  sir." 


"  What  hind  of  a  looking  man  was 
it?" 

Tony,  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
described  the  correspondent. 

"Ah!  I  think  I  know  who  he 
means,"  exclaimed  Corporal  Snow- 
pen,  suddenly. 

"Well?"  said  the  Captain. 

"I'm  pretty  sure  it  was  Byington 
(»f  the  New  Y'ork  Tribune.  I  saw 
him  start  (Hit  in  the  early  part  of  tlie 
ni.uht  and  he  took  that  direction." 

"You  must  be  right,"  said  the 
Captain  musingly,  "he  probably 
wanted  help  to  repair  the  telegraph 
wires,  and  ro  sent  to  the  general  for 
it." 

"But  about  the  boy.  Captain  dar- 
lint," put  in  Tim,  with  the  greatest 
assurance  in  the  world,  "  Shure  we 
may  kape  him?" 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  answer- 
ed the  Captain,  slowly.  "If  I  un- 
derstand the  matter  rightly,  he's  le- 
gally bound  to  this  farmer  until 
he's  twenty -one,  and  the  master  or 
guai'dian  could  come  and  demand 
him  of  us  at  any  time." 

"  No  fear  of  his  coming  for  the 
next  two  or  three  days,  at  least," 
said  Tim,  "an'  after  that  he  might 
have  a  hard  job  huntin' us  nj),  I'm 
thinkin'." 

"And  I  fancy,"  said  Corporal 
Snowden,  "that  Uncle  Sam  needs  his 
services  quite  as  much  as  this  hard 
fisted  farmer,  and  for  that  matter,  is 
quite  as  much  entitled  to  them." 

"There's  much  truth  in  that,  Cor- 
poral," rejoined  the  captain,  approv- 
ingly, then  turning  to  Tony: 

"How  is  it,  my  boy,  had  yon  rath- 
er go  back  to  the  farm,  or  stay  with 
us?" 

"Stay  with  you  a  hundred  times 
over,"  was  the  earnest  reply. 

"Think  seriously,  my  boy,  a  sol- 
dier's life  is  full  01  hardships  and 
dangers,  then — " 

"It's  a  glorious  life,  sir,"  inter- 
rupted Tony  eagerly,  "and  I  should 
be  fighting  for  my  country." 

"Well  said,"  murmured  Corporal 
Snowden,  with  an  api)roving  jiod. 

"But  listen,"  urged  the  Captain, 
"even  now  you  can  hear  the  soun<ls 
that  herald  death  to  some  one ;  and 
look  around  you,  at  this  very  mo- 
ment, on  every  hand,  you  see  thou- 
sands hurrying  to  their  fate.'' 

"No  matter,"  said  Tony  firmly,  "it 
may  as  well  be  me  as  they.  If  1  die, 
I  sb.all  die  in  a  good  cause;  if  I  live, 
I  shall  be  proud  of  the  choice  I  make 
this  day." 

"Enough,  you  shall  be  one  of  us, 
and  if  Farmer  Gripper  institutes  a 
search  for  you,  I  fancy,  from  what  I 
know  of  these  brave  boys,  that  it 
will  be  no  easy  task  to  find  you." 

"Anah  !  jist  let  him  come,"  said 
Tim,  "Sure,  its  a  foine  scare  we'll 
give  him.'' 

"By  Jove  !  I  hope  he  will,"  chuck- 
led liuffy,  rubbing  his  hands  togeth- 
er. 

"Then  that's  settled,"  said  the 
cai)tain,  and  1  leave  the   young  re- 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


cruit  for  you  to  look  after,  boys.  See 
that  he  doesn't  suffer  m  your  hands." 

"All  right,  captain,"  and  as  Kau- 
dal  Ellsworth  turned  away,  Sergeant 
Small  called  out, 

"Tony,  ray  boy,  I'll  bet  a  Scotch 
shilling— and  that's  a  big  one— that 
you  haven't  had  bite  nor  sui)  since 
you  woke  this  morning." 

"You're  right,  sir,"  answered 
Tony,  casting  a  wistful  glance  at 
some  hard-tack  and  a  few  other  sol- 
diers' delicacies  which  were  scatter- 
ed around. 

"Come  and  sit  down  beside  me 
then  and  help  yourself,  lad." 

Tony  obeyed  with  alacrity,  and  for 
the  next  few  minutes  was  too  busy 
to  answer  half  the  questions  that 
were  rained  upon  him  by  the  boys. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

DESPKRATE   FIGHTING TIM   COONEY 

PREDICTS  GREAT  THINGS  FOR  TONY. 

Hour  after  hour  passed,  and  still 
Tony  and  his  new  friends  remained 
out  of  harm's  way  in  the  sheltering 
nook. 

The  inaction  of  the  rebel  army 
seemed  providential.  Had  the  con- 
test been  renewed  in  earnest  at  day- 
light, with  the  first  and  eleventh 
corps  exhausted  by  the  battle  and 
the  subsequent  retreat,  the  third 
and  twelfth  weary  from  their  forced 
march,  and  the  second,  fifth  and 
sixth  not  yet  arrived,  nothing  but  a 
miracle  could  have  saved  the  army 
from  destruction. 

Instead  of  this,  as  we  have  seen, 
the  day  dawned,  the  sun  rose,  the 
cool  hours  of  morning  i)assed,  and 
the  forenoon  wore  away,  with  no  se- 
rious aggressive  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  enemy.  Thus,  time  was 
given  for  the  absent  half  of  the 
Union  army  to  arrive  and  take  their 
place  in  the  lines,  while  the  rest  of 
the  troops  enjoyed  a  much  needed 
half  day's  rest. 

It  was  not  until  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  that  Sedgwick  arrived 
with  the  sixth  corps.  He  had  march- 
ed thirty-two  miles  since  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning  of  the  day  before. 

It  was  only  on  his  arrival  that  the 
Federal  army  attained  anything  like 
an  equality  of  numbers  with  that  of 
the  rebels  pitted  against  it. 

At  length,  between  three  and  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  work  of 
death  began.  The  Federal  batteries 
in  front  of  the  rebel  line  of  fire  re- 
plied vigorously;  and  for  two  hours 
tlie  roar  and  thunder,  and  flame,  and 
smoke  of  artillery  so  completely  fill- 
ed the  heavens  that  all  else  seemed 
forgotten. 

At  length  through  the  woods  on 
the  left  black  masses  were  seen  mov- 
ing— larger,  more  frequent,  and 
nearer ! 

Skirmishing  in  that  part  of  the 
field  became  sharper. 

General  Sickles  moved  forward  to 
develop  the  enemy  s  intentions  and 


to  gain  a  commanding  ])osition  from 
which  to  repel  the  rebel  attack. 
Bigelow's  Massachusett's  battery  ac- 
companietl  him. 

General  Sickles'  position  was  un- 
fortiuKitely  too  far  from  the  maiu 
line  to  be  promptly  or  immediately 
supported  by  the  second  or  Fifth 
corps. 

General  Meade  saw  this  and  sought 
Sickles  at  once,  and  discussed  with 
him  the  propriety  of  falling  back  to 
the  line  of  his  supports;  but  the 
enemy  had  perceived  his  exposed 
position,  and  were  rushing  forward 
to  the  attack  in  heavy  force,  about 
twenty-six  thousand  men  being 
thrown  at  once  upon  this  single 
corps. 

Very  early  in  the  engagement  Gen- 
eral Sickles  was  severely  wounded, 
and  Major  General  Birney  took  com- 
mand of  the  corps,  and  retained  it, 
tllough  himself  wounded  soon  after. 

After  a  brave  and  determined  re- 
sistance, the  corps  was  forced  back; 
and  the  enemy,  flushed  with  success, 
pressed  forward  with  all  their  might 
for  the  high  ground  between  Round 
Top  and  Little  Round  Top.  If  they 
could  reach  and  hold  this  they  would 
be  able  to  command  the  Federal 
position  on  Cemetery  Hill. 

The  struggle  was  tierce  and  des- 
perate, and,  for  nearly  four  hours, 
victory  seemed  poised  in  the  balance. 

Bigelow's  battery,  which  had  not 
previeusly  been  under  fire,  occupied 
an  exposed  position,  and  the  rebels 
seemed  determined  to  take  it.  Major 
McGilvray,  who  commanded  the  ar- 
tillery on  the  left,  ordered  Captain 
Bigelow  to  hold  his  i)osition  till  he 
could  get  up  two  batteries  on  the 
ridge,  and  to  give  the  rebels  grave 
and  canister. 

Captain  Bigelow  obeyed,  and  as 
the  rebels  came  up  to  the  very  muz- 
zles of  *his  cannon  to  capture  tliem, 
he  blew  them  to  pieces,  and  filled  the 
air  with  the  scattered  fragments  of 
their  bodies. 

Still  they  rushed  on  with  demoniac 
yells,  climbing  upon  the  limbers,  and 
shooting  the  horses,but  Bigelow  held 
on,  though  nearly  all  his  horses  were 
kille<l,  five  of  his  sergeants  dead, 
and  three  of  his  cannoners  and  twen- 
ty-two of  his  men  wounded,  and  him- 
self shot  through  the  side,  till  the 
booming  of  the  guns  from  the  ridge 
told  that  McGilvray  had  planted  his 
batteries.  He  then  brought  off  five 
of  his  limbers  and  two  of  his  guns, 
dragging  tliem  in  part  by  hand. 

The  rebels  rushed  forward,  seized 
the  four  pieces  with  loud  shouts,  and 
came  on  for  ne  w  triumphs,  but  McGil- 
vray's  batteries  drove  them  back 
with  terrible  slaughter,  and  a  fresh 
division  coming  up  to  reinforce  the 
third  corps,  charged  upon  the  rebels 
and  recaptured  the  guns. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  Larry 
O'Brien  and  Jim  Pender,  both  of 
Captain  Ellsworth's  company, ruslied 
in  among  their  couiiades,  and  with 
one  breath  exchiimcd: 


"O,"  boys,  the  most  elegant  piece 
of  fighting  you  ever  saw  in  your 
lives.  Sickles'  corps  is  in  for  it  hot 
and  heavy,  and  they  want  helj)  the 
worst  way.  I  wish  the  colonel  would 
let  us  take  a  hand." 

"Arrah,  now.  Sergeant  darlint,"' 
cried  TimCooney,  "just  spake  to  the 
captain,  af  he  axes  it  as  a  favor,! 
share,  the  colonel  won'trefuse."  ' 
"111  do  it,"  said  Sergeaiit  Small, 
"  but  I  fear  its  of  no  use.  It's  in  cg- 
ular,  you  see." 

At  that  moment  the  cajitain  and 
several  other  ofticers  apinoachctl. 

The  Sergeant  at  once  made  known 
the  wishes  of  his  comrades. 

Captain  Ellsworth  shook  his  head. 

"Ko  use,"  he  said,  "the  regiment 

will  have   enough  to  do   by-and-by, 

I'm   thinking;  still,   if  you  wish  it, 

I'll  speak  to  the  colonel." 

"Then  spake  at  onct,  captain,  dar- 
lint," said  Tim,  "for  see,  sure,  he's 
comin'  now." 

As  the  colonel  came  up,  the  cap- 
tain referred  to  him  the  singular  re- 
quest of  his  men. 

"No  use,"  exclaimed  the  colonel, 
promptly;  "  'twouldn't  do  at  all — 
can't  think  of  it  for  a  moment.  Meade 
will  see  that  Sickles' coriis  don't  suf- 
fer." 

"Arrah  now,  colonel,"  began  Tim, 
in  a  wheedling  voice. 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  continued 
the  colonel,  with  a  grim  smile;  "if 
you're  all  so  mighty  anxious  to  get 
killed,  if  there  were  any  other  troops 
about  here  moving  to  the  support  ot 
the  Third  Corps,  why,  you  might 
join  them  without  attracting  atten- 
tion." 

"See,  colonel !"  exclaimed  Cor- 
poral Snowden,  "two  divisions  of  our 
corps  and  the  Sixth  there  are  just 
moving  toward  Little  Round  Top; 
we  can  easily  join  them." 

"Well,  if  Captain  Ellsworth  ap- 
proves, you  may  go." 

"Hurrah  for  the  Colonel!"  and 
with  three  ringing  cheers,  the  brave 
boys  fell  into  rank,  and  with  Ells- 
worth at  their  head,  hastened  to  join 
the  moving  divisions. 

In  addition  to  the  Sixth  Corps,  and 
the  two  divisions  of  the  Twelfth, 
Doubleday's  division  of  the  First 
Corps,  the  Second  and  part  of  the 
Fifth  came  to  the  assistance  of  the 
Third,  and  after  nearly  three  hours 
of  the  hardest  fighting  of  the  war, 
succeeded  in  repulsing  the  enemy, 
who  had  at  one  time  gained  possess- 
ion of  the  summit  of  Little  Round 
Top. 

From  this  point  they  were  driven 
by  Ellsworth's  company  and  Craw- 
ford's division,who,  cnmingup  fresh, 
charged  upon  them  with  great  fury, 
drove  them  down  the  rocky  front  of 
that  hill,  across  the  valley  below, 
over  the  next  hill  and  into  the  woods 
beyond,  taking  over  three  hundred 
prisoners. 

In  this  fearful  charge  it  was  that 
Tony  Tibbits  for  tlie  first  time  in  his 
young    life  saw   what  real   fighting 


8 


rpTT-p  WAP  LIBRARY. 


•was;  tlien  it  was  he  leaviieil  to  love 
and  respect  every  man  with  whom 
his  lot  had  been  so  suddenly  and 
strangely  cast. 

He  saw  Captain  Eandal  Ellsworth 
cheer  on  his  men,  and  noted  that  not 
for  one  single  instant  did  he  shrink 
from  danger.  He  saw  that  the  friend- 
ly sergeant  and  corporal  were  both 
great  warriors,  a  host  in  themselves, 
and  that  the  two  O'Briens,  Duffy, 
Phil  McGiveney,  Tim  Cooney, 
Hughes,  Glynn  and  all  the  others 
were  in  their  native  element  when 
the  light  was  hottest  and  blood  was 
flowing  most  freely. 

Then  he  forgot  everything— every- 
thing but  the  tight,  and  casting  aside 
his  drum,  which  a  half  dozen  shots 
had  rendered  useless,  he  picked  up 
a  rifle,  the  use  of  which  he  well  un- 
derstood, and  went  in  with  the  rest 
in  dead  earnest. 

At  this  time  the  fighting  was  fear- 
ful in  the  extreme,  and  the  Union 
trooiJS  were  doing  terrible  work;  but 
the  rebel  General  Barksdale  was  seen 
to  fall;  then  thoroughly  disheart- 
ened and  driven  back  with  severe 
loss,  the  rebels  made  no  further  at- 
tempt on  the  Federal  left  wing. 

But  now  word  was  passed  that  the 
Twelfth  Corps  was  in  danger,  and 
Captain  Ellsworth  with  his  company, 
which  had  suffered  severely,  has- 
tened to  rejoiu  his  regiment. 

It  was  time. 

The  rebel  commanding  general  was 
now  determined  to  break  through 
the  right  and  gain  the  central  one  of 
the  valley  roads. 

The  failure  of  his  troops  to  turn 
the  left,  the  snatching  of  the  victory, 
as  it  were,  from  their  very  clutches, 
and  the  hurling  back  of  their  broken 
columns,  defeated  azul  in  confusion, 
made  the  case  more  desperate ;  and 
so  the  attack  on  Slocum  was  furious 
even  to  madness. 

But  shortly  after  Ellsworth's  men 
had  joined  their  regiment  the  First 
and  Sixth  Corps  came  up  to  the  sup- 
port of  the  Twelfth,  and  sustaiued  it 
in  an  unyielding  combat. 

Until  half  past  nine  o'clock  the 
battle  raged  with  unmitigated  fierce- 
ness, the  lines  moved  to  and  fro, 
each  in  turn  advancing  and  falling 
back. 

At  this  hour  of  the  night  the  en- 
emy made  his  final  charge  on  the  left 
of  the  right  wing  held  by  General 
Geary's  division.  He  was  repulsed 
with  terrible  slaughter,  and  refused 
to  renew  the  attack. 

At  ten  o'clock   the  battle  ceased, 

(and  for  a  time  peaceful  quiet  reigned 
over  the  field  of  carnage. 
Ellsworth's  men  now  had  a  little 
time  to  rest,  and  Corporal  Snowden, 
placing  his  hand  kindly  on  Tony's 
head,  said: 

"You  made  no  mistake,  my  brave 
boy,  you  were  cut  out  for  a  soldier, 
if  ever  boy  was  yet. " 

"Thrue  forye.  Corporal  Snowden," 
exclaimed  Tim  Cooney,  who  was 
standing  near;  "I  had  me  eye  on  him 


all  through  ther  foight,  an'I  predict 
the  by  will  prove  an  honor  to  me 
sagacity;  shure  there's  not  a  doubt 
av  it." 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

THE     GEEAT    VICTORY     AT     GETTYS- 
BURG. 

EWELL,  operating  against  the  ex- 
treme right  of  the  Federals,  which 
had  been  weakened  by  the  withdraw- 
al of  troops  sent  over  to  support  the 
left,  had  succeeded  in  gaining  a  foot- 
hold within  a  portion  of  the  Union 
lines  near  Spangler's  Spring.  This 
was  the  only  advantage  obtained  by 
the  rebels  to  compensate  them  for 
the  terrible  disasters  of  the  day,  and 
of  this  they  were  destined  to  be  soon 
deprived. 

During  the  night  General  Meade, 
determined  to  dislodge  Ewell  from 
his  position,  and  as  a  matter  of  ijer- 
sonal  honor  assigned  the  task  to 
General  Slocum,  who  had  previously 
held  the  same  place. 

A  division  of  the  Sixth  Corps  was 
stationed  on  the  rightof  the  Twelfth, 
Slocum's,  thus  forming  the  extreme 
outpost  of  the  right  wing.  The  Fifth 
Corps  was  sent  over  as  a  reserve,  and 
General  Wadsworth's  division  of  the 
First  Corps  took  position  to  strength- 
en Howard's  right  where  it  joined 
Slocum's  left. 

These  were  the  preliminaries. 

The  men  well  knew  the  fearfn) 
called  to  perform,  and  nerved  their 
hearts  to  the  perilous  task. 

The  next  morning  at  four  o'clock, 
Slocum's  line  opened  a  temiic  tire 
on  Ewell's  men.  The  enemy  re- 
sponded in  a  furious  charge— per- 
haps the  most  furious  ev^er  made  on  a 
field  of  battle. 

With  fiendish  yeils  and  seeming 
contempt  of  death,  during  .six  full 
hours,  they  hurled  their  solid  masses 
against  the  well-defended  line.s. 

The  Federal  troops  stood  like  a 
wall  of  fire,  whose  flaming  tongues 
inwrapped  in  death  whatever  came 
near,  whose  foundations  were  as 
firm  as  if  one  with  the  primal  rock 
on  which  they  rested. 

Nothing  during  the  war  had  equal- 
ed this  six  hours  of  carnage.  In 
front  of  Geary's  position  were  more 
rebel  dead  than  the  number  of  the 
entire  list  of  casualities  in  the  twelfth 
corps.  They  lay  in  bloody  mounds, 
some  pierced  with  a  single  bullet- 
wound,  others  torn  and  mangled  in 
the  most  frightful  manner. 

Before  half-past  ten  o'clock,  Slo- 
cum had  repulsed  and  driven  back 
the  foe  at  every  point,  and  reoccu- 
pied  his  original  position.  As  they 
fell  back,  a  battery  on  the  Baltimore 
turnpike  plowed  through  the  ene- 
my's lines  with  shot  and  shell  hurl- 
ed over  the  heads  of  the  twelfth 
corps,  and  made  terrible  havoc  in 
their  ranks. 

Ellsworth'.s  brave  boys  now  had  a 
breathing  spell,  for  after  the  retreat 


of  Ewell's  troops  to  the  west  and 
northwest  of  the  town  of  Gettysburg, 
the  enemy  remained  quiet  till  one 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  they 
opened  tire  with  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  to  one  hundred  and  tifty 
guns  on  the  centre  and  left,  the  posi- 
tion of  General  Hancock's  corps, 
which  from  the  want  of  natural  de- 
fenses, was  the  weakest  i^ortion  of 
the  Fedex-al  lines. 

The  Federal  batteries,  fully  equal 
in  number  and  caliber,  replied 
promptly,  and  for  the  next  two  hours 
the  earth  fairly  shook  under  the  feet 
of  the  two  armies  with  the  terrible 
concussion. 

The  air  seemed  filled  with  iron 
missiles,  and  the  forest  trees  on  both 
sides  were  riven,  torn  and  splintered, 
as  if  struck  by  lightening. 

At  last  the  Federal  troops  ceased 
to  reply,  not  from  any  disposition  to 
yield,  or  from  lack  of  ammunition,  but 
to  compel  the  rebels  to  a  further  de- 
monstration. 

They  were  not  slow  in  making  it. 
Pickett's  division,  the  elite  of  Long- 
street's  corps,  which  had  not  yet 
been  under  fire  in  this  battle,  was 
advanced,  and  supported  by  three 
brigades  from  two  divisions  of  Hill's 
corps. 

They  moved  steadily  forward  for 
nearly  half  a  mile,  intending  evi- 
dently to  carry  the  Federal  lines  by 
assault;  when  having  arrived  within 
short  range,  the  artillery  o])ened  on 
them  with  gi'ape,  canister,  and  shell. 
They  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then 
with  tremendous  yells  rushed  on 
till,  when  within  a  sliort  distance  of 
the  lines,  they  were  leceived  with  a 
most  deadly  and  destructive  tire  of 
musketry. 

Under  this  they  reeled  and  stag- 
gered, and  a  part  rushing  up  to  the 
Federal  lines  threw  down  their  arms, 
and  surrendered,  while  the  remainder 
turned  and  fled. 

Two  brigades  of  Doubleday's  di- 
vision sprang  foward,  and  each  cap- 
tured more  than  eight  hundred  pris- 
oners, and  the  other  brigades  took 
considerable  numbers.  Fifteen  stands 
of  colors  were  also  taken  by  the 
the  Federal  troops. 

Over  one  third  of  the  rebels  en- 
gaged in  this  assault  were  left  upon 
the  field,  and  three  thousand  more 
were  taken  prisoners.  One  of  their 
generals  was  killed,  and  four  more 
weunded— two  of  them  mortally. 

On  the  Federal  .side  the  loss  ha<l 
been  much  less,  but  Major  (icneval 
nancock  and  Brigadier  Ccncral  Gib- 
bou  were  severely,  and  Generals 
Warren  and  Hunt  slightly  woundeil. 
Of  course  this  closed  the  battle  in 
this  part  of  the  field,  as  there  was  im 
probability  of  rallying  these  broken 
and  disheartened  troops  for  another 
attack. 

But  Longstreethad  not  relinquisli- 
ed  the  hope  of  efl'ecting  a  lodgment 
of  his  trooi)s  upon  Round  Tnj)  or 
Little  Round  Top.  Hood's  and  ^\c- 
Laws'   divisions  of  his  corps,   while 


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the  tight  with  the  Federal  center 
■\vas  progressing,  assaulted  these 
points  with  great  vigor  in  front, 
and  at  the  same  time  Longstreet  sent 
an  infantry  force  with  two  or  three 
batteries,  to  a  point  nearly  two  miles 
southwest  of  Round  To]>,  with  orders 
to  press  foward  and  turn  the  Hank  of 
the  sixth  corps,  so  as  to  fall  upon  the 
Federal  rear  and  secure  its  trains  of 
ammunition,  which  were  packed  be- 
hind Round  Top. 

Tiiey  were,  as  they  thought,  mak- 
ing good  progress  in  this  movement, 
when  they  suddenly  found  them- 
selves confronted  by  two  brigades  of 
Kilpatrick"s  division  of  cavalry. 

A  tierce  engagement  ensued,  in 
which  the  rebel  batteries  were 
silenced,  and  tlie  infantry  driven 
back  to  tlieir  original  position  in 
front  of  Round  Top,  and  the  Penn- 
sylvania Reserves  charged  upon 
them,  capturing  the  battery,  taking 
tiiree  hundred  prisoners,  and  five 
tliousand  stand  of  arms. 

At  the  same  time,  General  Gregg, 
with  liis  division  of  cavalry,  who  had 
held  a  position  on  the  extreme  right, 
cro.ssed  the  Baltimore  and  Bonaugh- 
town  road,  and  successfully  attacked 
Stuart's  cavalry  and  Ewell's  force 
ou  (he  left  and  rear. 

The  great  battle  was  over.  Thwart- 
ed at  every  point,  his  efforts  to  pene- 
trate and  destroj'  the  Federal  army 
all  defeated,  with  nearly  one  third  of 
his  whole  force  either  killed  or  pris- 
oners, his  ammunition  and  supplies 
nearly  exhausted,  the  rebel  com- 
manding general  sullenly  drew  back 
to  his  intrenchments,  and  ordered 
the  gathering  up  of  such  of  his 
wounded  as  could  be  most  readily 
moved.  The  rebel  troops  which  had 
hitherto  occupied  the  town  and  the 
tract  southeast  of  it,  moved  during 
the  night  to  Seminary  ridge. 

Uiiriiig  the  same  night,  the  Fede- 
ral army,  worn  out  with  the  stress  of 
tlie  terrible  combat,  bivouacked  in  its 
position;  the  men  dropping  in  their 
places  and  sleeping. 

Before  the  sun  rose  on  the  morning 
of  the  fourth,  Lee  had  decamped  with 
his  whole  army  toward  the  Potomac. 

Details  of  Federal  soldiers  were  at 
once  made  to  bury  the  dead.  Along 
the  Union  lines  and  down  the  slope  in 
front,  especially  in  front  of  the  point 
where  Ellsworth's  men  had  been  sta- 
tioned, the  ground  was  strewn  with 
corpses,  many  of  them  already  black- 
ened and  swollen, some  still  in  striking 
attitudes.  Here  a  soldier  had  evident- 
ly been  engaged  in  trying  to  save  the 
life  of  a  wounded  comrade  by  binding 
a  handkerchief  about  the  shattered 
limb,  but  was  shot,  and,  falling  on 
his  wounded  companion,  both  had 
died  together. 

Tony,  who  with  Corporal  Snowden 
had  accompanied  the  detail  from  his 
regiment,  beheld  this  and  many  other 
fearful  spectacles,  and  as  he  gazed 
about  him  he  could  have  recognized 
the  truthfulness  of  the  picture  drawn 
by  a  certain  officer  there. 


"I  could  imagine,"  he  said,  "  no- 
thing more  terrible  than  the  silent 
indications  of  agony  that  marked  the 
features  of  the  pale  corpses  which 
lay  at  every  step.  Though  dead  and 
rigid  in  every  muscle,  they  still  writh- 
ed and  seemed  to  turn  to  catch  the 
passing  breeze  for  a  cooling  breath. 
Staring  eyes,  gaping  mouth,  clinched 
hands,  and  strangly  contracted  limbs, 
seemingly  drawn  into  the  smallest 
compass  as  if  by  a  mighty  ettbrt  to 
rend  asunder  some  irresistible  bond 
wliich  held  them  down  to  the  torture 
of  which  they  died. 

"  One  sat  against  a  tree,  and,  with 
mouth  and  eyes  wide  open,  looked 
u})  into  the  sky  as  if  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  its  own  fleeting  spirit.  Another 
clutched  the  branch  of  an  overhang- 
ing tree,  and  hung  half  suspended, 
as  if  in  death  he  had  raised  himself 
partly  from  the  ground.  Another 
had  grasped  his  faithful  musket,  and 
the  compression  of  liis  mouth  told  of 
a  determination  which  would  have 
been  fatal  to  a  foe  had  lii'e  ebbed  a 
minute  later.  Another  clung  with 
both  hands  to  a  bayonet  which  was 
buried  in  the  ground.  Great  numbers 
lay  in  heaps,  just  as  the  fire  of  the 
artillery  mowed  them  down,  mangled 
their  forms  into  almost  indistinguish- 
al)le  mass." 

Tony  Tibbits  saw  all  this  and  more. 
No  wonder  then,  taking  into  consid- 
eration all  he  had  previously  passed 
through  on  that  bloody  field,  since 
leaving  the  farmer's  house,  that,  at 
one  bound,  so  to  speak,  he  became 
transformed  from  a  diffident  country 
boy  to  a  brave  and  thorough  soldier. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

GILES     GRIPPF.R     GETS     INTO     HOT 
WATER. 

For  two  days  after  the  battle  the 
greater  part  of  the  Federal  army  re- 
mained on  the  field  of  Gettysburg, 
and  the  Twentieth  Connecticut  Vol- 
unteers, the  regiment  of  which  Ran- 
dal Ellsworth's  comi)any  formed  a 
part,  occupied  a  ])osition  near  the 
spot  where  Tony  Tibbits  had  first 
found  it. 

Tbe  boy  had  quickly  won  his  way 
to  the  heart  of  every  member  of  the 
company,  they  would  gladly  have 
made  a  pet  of  "him  had  he  not  resent- 
ed the  idea  and  shown  them  conclu- 
sively that  he  wanted  to  be  treated 
as  a  man,  and  do  a  man's  whole  duty. 

This  manly  bearing  of  the  brave 
young  drummer  boy  only  increased 
the  love  and  respect  his  comrades  felt 
for  him,  and  so,  by  the  time  the  great 
battle  was  fairly  fought  and  won, 
they  were  ready  to  do  anything  in 
the  world  for  him. 

It  was  the  second  day  after  the 
battle,  all  the  work  assigned  to  the 
Twentieth  had  been  performed  and 
Ellsworth's  boys,  in  common  with 
the  rest  of  the  regiment,  were  "  tak- 
ing things  easy." 

Tony,  Joe  O'Brien,  Jim  Keegan, 
and  one  or  two  others,  were  lying  in 


the  shade  of  a  clump  of  trees,  at  thi 
rear  of  the  camp,  and  at  some  distance 
from  the  rest. 

Suddenly,  on  looking  uj),  Tony  saw 
two  i)ersons  advancing  to  their  quar-  * 
ters,  one  from  his  neat  uniform  it 
was  easy  to  see  was  the  orderly  of 
some  general,  the  other  wore  thel 
plain  clothes  of  a  country  farmer.       | 

As  the  boy  caught  sight  of  the 
hitter's  face  he  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion of  alarm. 

His  comrades  turned  quickly  and 
asked  to  know  what  was  the  mat- 
ter. 

"  Gripper,"  gasped  Tony,  "  he's 
come  to  take  me  away." 

"  Where  is  the  griper  ?  "  demanded 
Jim  Keegan  savagely.  "  Just  let 
me  get  a-hold  of  him,  and  I'll  show 
him  what  a  griper  is." 

"  Don't  talk  so  loud,  Jim,"  whisp- 
ered Tony,  "  he'll  hear  you  and  then 
it  will  he  all  day  with  me— sure." 

"  r.sii:nv!  "  Innghed  Jimmy,  "  don'1 
bother  your  head  about  him,  the  boys 
never  II  let  him  get  away  with  you  ii 
the  world." 

"  1  don't  know  about  that,"  mut- 
tered Tony,  with  a  sorrowful  shake    9. 
of  the  head,  "  1  m  worth  a  good  deal 
to  him  and  he  won't  go  away  without 
me  if  he  can  possibly  help  himself." 

"Ah!  but  that's  just  it — he  cant 
help  himself." 

"  Hark!  "  exclaimed  Joe,  "  there's 
Snowden,  Larry,  and  Tim  Cooney, 
the  farmer  and  orderly  are  going  to 
speak  to  them.  Let's  hear  what 
they've  got  to  say,"  and  cautiously 
bending  forward,  they  all  listened. 

"Corporal,  here's  a  man  who  wants 
to  see  your  captain — Ellsworth  I  be- 
lieve," said  the  orderly.  "He  has 
particular  business  with  him." 

"Ah!"  responded  Snowden,  who  at 
once  suspected  the  farmer's  identity, 
"very  sorry  that  Captain  Ellsworth 
is  not  about — off  on  sisecial  service,, 
you  know." 

"Well,  I  suppose  one  of  lieuten- 
ants would  do  as  well,"  suggested 
the  orderly. 

"That's  bad  again,  our  first  lieuten- 
ant was  seriously  wounded  in  the 
late  battle  and  is  now  in  hospitiil. 
the  second  lieutenant  is  busy  making 
out  a  report  and  as  he  don't  like  tht 
business,  and  has  got  the  temper  oj 
a  fiend,  it  would  be  about  as  much 
as  any  man's  life  is  worth  to  disturb 
him." 

"Oh  Lord!  don't  disturb  him  on 
any  account  then,"  exclaimed  the 
farmer  hastily. 

"Hum,"  said  the  orderly,  "at  least 
you  must  have  some  officer  about 
who  can  give  the  man  the  informa- 
tion he  seek.  Of  course  its  no  busi- 
ness of  mine,  but  you  see,  I  was  sent 
by  General  Slocum,  and  I  dare  say 
he'll  want  me  to  make  some  kind  of 
a  report.  Where's  your  first  Ser- 
geant—Thompson, Brown,  or  what- 
ever his  name  is?" 

"It  happens  to  be  Small — Peter 
Small,  since  the  charge  we  made  on 
Little  Round  Top,  when  the  rebels 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


held     possessiou     of    the     summit 
there. " 

"Ah!  your  orderly  was  killed 
then-" 

"  Yes,  and  Sergeant  Small  was  pro- 
moted to  be  orderly  Sergeant,  and  I 
was  advanced  a  peg  or  two  myself. 
Peter's  first  sergeant,  and  I'm  first 
corporal  now." 

"Well,  can  we  see  Sergeant 
Small?" 

"Why— yes,  I  think  so."  Then 
turning  to  Tim  Cooney  with  a  sly 
wink, 

"Tim,  old  boy,  go  fetch  the  ser- 
geant.— But  wait  a  moment;  who 
shall  1  say  wants  to  see  him?" 

"Giles  G-ripper,"  answered  the 
farmer,  "and  you  may  as  well  say 
that  I've  come  about  a  boy,  who,  I 
understand,  has  enlisted  in  this  com- 
panj' — the  little  scamp  want's  to  rob 
me  of  his  time— the  rascally  villain." 

"Oh,  the  dhirty  spalpeen!"  ex- 
claimed Tim,  "Phat's  the  name  ov 
him?" 

"Tony  Tibbets,"  answered  the  far- 
mer, "and  he's  no  more  fit  to  go  to 
war  than  I  am— no!  I  don't  mean 
that — than  my  old  woman  is." 

"Well,  sor,  I'll  call  the  sergeant— 
and  a  few  more  be.sides,  I'm  thinkin'  " 
muttered  Tim,  sotto  voce,  as  he  moved 
away. 

"Have  you  such  a  boy  in  your 
company  as  he  describes,  corporal?" 
asked  the  orderly. 

"Let  me  see,"  mused  Snowden, 
"Tibbits— Tony  Tibbits.  About  how 
old  should  you  say,  sir?" 

"Wal,  may  be  fourteen,"  said  the 
farmer,  "p'r'aps  a  leetle  more." 

"Hum!  I  fancy  there  was  a  boy  of 
that  description  who  came  into  our 
quarters  during  the  night,  after  the 
first  day's  fight." 

"Ah!  and  he's  with  you  now?" 
said  the  orderly  quickly. 

"It  may  be  so." 

"Then,  Mr.  Gripper,"  continued 
the  orderly,  turning  to  the  farmer, 
"I  don't  see  as  I  can  be  of  any  fur- 
ther use  to  you,  and  s«,  as  I've  much 
to  look  after,  at  headquarters,  I'll 
bid  you  good  day.  Good  day,  cor- 
poral, good  day,  comrades,"  and  he 
was  gone. 

"Nice  likely  fellow,  that,"  said  the 
farmer  approvingly,  "reckon  he'll 
be  a  general  some  day,  sure." 

"Very  likely,"  replied  Snowden 
dryly,  "that's  the  kind  of  timber 
the  government  makes  geneials  out 
of,"  and  he  east  a  furtive  glance  in 
the  direction  Tim  had  taken. 

But  Tim  did  not  seem  to  be  in  any 
hurry  to  return,  neither  did  Sergeant 
Small  show  up." 

Farmer  Gripper  began  to  grow  im- 
patient. 

"What  in  thunder's  the  matter 
with  all  you  sojers?"  he  growled, 
"a  pesky  lazy  lot  seems  ter  me." 

"Don't  get  impatient,  sir,"  said 
Corporal  Snowden  meaningly,  "Per- 
haps the  sergeant  will  get  here  quite 
as  soon  as  you'll  care  to  see  him, 
after  all." 


"What's  that  you  say?" 

The  corporal  drew  nearer,  and 
gazed  earnestly  into  his  face. 

"The  more  I  look  at  you,"  he  said 
gravely,"  the  better  I  am  satisfied 
that  I've  heard  of  you  before." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  sir?"  asked 
Gripper  with  a  bewildered  and  star- 
tled look. 

"O,  nothing— that  is,  you'll  learn 
fast  enough  when  the  sergeant 
comes." 

"Good  Lord  !  what  mess  have  I 
got  into  now?"  groaned  the  unhap- 
py farmer. 

The  corporal  with  an  impenetra- 
ble look,  shook  his  head. 

"Why  the  deuce  don't  yer  speak  ?" 
snapped  Gripper.  Then  brightening 
up  a  little,  "But  confound  it  all,  / 
hain't  done  uothin',  all  I  want's  my 
boy,  an'  him  I'm  goin'  ter  have,  I 
reckon  if  there's  any  law  in  the 
land." 

Snowden  made  no  answer,  and  a 
minute  or  two  later.  Sergeant  Small 
and  quite  a  number  of  the  boys 
came  up. 

The  sergeant  had  a  slip  of  paper 
in  his  hand,  which,  after  regarding 
the  farmer  attentively  for  a  moment 
or  so,  he  referred  to, 

"Ah  !  you  are  Giles  Gripper,  afar- 
mer  in  this  neighborhood?"  he  said 
sharply  at  last. 

"Yes,  sii-,"  faltered  the  poor  farm- 
er, who  didn't  know  what  to  make  of 
what  was  going  on. 

"And  you  gained  admission  within 
our  lines  on  the  pi-etext  that  you 
wanted  to  find  a  boy,  who,  as  I  un- 
derstand it,  you  claim,  was  bound  to 
you  by  the  town  authorities?" 

"Of  course,  that's  it  exactly." 

"Hum,  a  very  ingenious  story,  Mr. 
Gripper." 

"What,  sir?" 

"a  very  ingenious  story,  I  say. 
But,  sir,  let  me  tell  you,  we're  up  to 
all  such  dodges.  And  whatever 
you've  done  in  other  parts  of  the 
army,  you  can't  fool  us.  We  know 
you. " 

"Good  Lord  !  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Mean  !  What  do  you  suppose  we 
mean  ?  We  understand  j-our  little 
game — that's  all.  The  fact  is,  you've 
played  it  once  too  often. " 

"Played  it  too  often  ?  Played  what 
too  often?" 

"This  lost  boy  business.  We  know 
what  your  real  business  is  within  our 
lines." 

"Sir!" 

"How  much  did  you  expect  to  get 
from  Lee  for  the  information,  you 
were  going  to  send  him  to-day,  eh  ?" 

For  a  moment  the  ]ioor  farmer 
seemed  comiilctel y  duiiibfouiided.  At 
length  he  m:iiiagod  to  -asji  out  ! 

"Lee  !  I  never  had  any  thing  to  do 
with  Lee  in  all  my  life.  What're  you 
drivin'  at,  any  way  ?" 

"Of  course  you  deny  it,  but  we  un- 
derstand, don't  we,  boys?" 

"Of  course,  of  course,"  went  up 
from  the  attentive  crowd. 

"You    understand,   do    vou  ?"    ex- 


claimed the  farmer  fiercely,  "then 
what  d'ye  take  me  for,  any  way  ?" 

"A  spy!  a  spy!"  shouted  the 
boys. 

"Yes,"  added  Snowden,  "and  the 
worst  kind  of  a  spy  too;  for  he  would 
have  betrayed  us  when  we  had  just 
saved  his  home  and  fields  from  pil- 
laqre,  think  of  it !" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  FAKMEE  IS   TREED,  AND  SENTEN- 
CED TO  BE   BUBEIED  ALIVE. 

"That's  a  durned  lie  any  how," 
exclaimed  the  fanner  angrily,  "yer 
didn't  save  either  ther  house  or  fields 
from  pillage,  an'  ther  very  wust 
thieves  that  carried  oflmy  property 
war  men,  who  claimed  tev  be  Union 
soldiers." 

"Well,"  said  the  sergeant,  "if  any 
men  have  misconducted  themselves 
about  your  place  they  were  not 
Union  soldiers,  though  they  may 
have  pretended  to  be  such.  But 
that's  not  to  the  point,  the  question 
now  is,  what  punishment  shall  we  in- 
flict on  you — a  miserable  spy." 

"It's  a  durned  lie,  I  tell  yer," 
cried  the  farmer,  "I'm  as  good  a 
Union  as  any  o'  yer,  and  love  my 
country  just  as  well. " 

"Ah,  phat  are  ye  givin'  us,  yer 
dirty  divil  ?"  growled  Tim.  "If  ye 
war  that,  ye'd  be  in  the  army,  wear- 
in'  a  blue  coat,  an'  wid  a  good  mus- 
ket or  rifle  over  your  shoulder,  so 
yer  would. " 

"Everybody  can't  fight,"  retorted 
Gripper,  "some  must  stay  home,  and 
raise  stuff  for  you  sojers  ter  eat." 

"Arroh,  go  'way  wid  yer,  there'd 
always  be  cowards  enough  for  ther 
likes  o'  that." 

"Sergeant,"  said  Larry  O'Brien, 
suddenly  and  in  a  serious  tone,  "I'd 
just  like  to  know  what  all  this  talk 
is  about  any  way.  This  man  is  either 
a  spy  or  he  is  not  a  spy.  If  the  first, 
he  ought  to  be  hung  at  once,  if  the 
last,  we  ought  to  send  him  home  to 
his  old  woman  with  the  least  possible 
delay." 

"That's  the  talk  !  that's  the  talk  !" 
went  up  from  a  dozen  approving 
voices. 

"Then  I  reckon  yer'd  better  let  me 
go  right  straight  away,"  exclaimed 
the  farmer  eagerly. 

"Holdup!  Not  so  fast,  my  man," 
said  the  sergeant  sternly.  "Tim,  are 
all  the  witnesses  here?" 

"Yes,  sir,  ivery  mother's  sou  av 
thim." 

"Then  bring  up  the  first." 

"Here  he  is,  sor,  John  Faulkner, 
who,  loike  ther  great  Gineral  Wash- 
ington himself,  niver  told  a  loi." 

"John,"  said  the  sergeant,  in  a 
magisterial  tone,  "do  you  know  the 
prisoner  at  the  bar? — Ahem  !  I  wish 
to  goodness  there  was  a  bar  here, — 
I  say,  do  you  know  him?" 

"i  do,  sir,"  responded  Johnny 
promptly. 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


11 


"Where  did  yoii  ever  see  him  be- 
fore ?" 

"Down  by  the  spring  yonder,  just 
before  dark  last  evening." 

"Ah !  And  what  was  he  doing 
there?" 

"He  was  whispering  to  a  soldier." 

"He  was  1  Anything  else  ?" 

"I  saw  him  offering  the  soldier 
money." 

"Oho  !  trying  to  corrupt  one  of 
our  noble  comrades.  But  of  course 
the  brave  defender  of  our  country 
rejected  the  tilthy  lucre  with  scorn, 
eh?" 

"Not  mnch,  sir;  he  pocketed  the 
greenback  so  quick  it  fairly  made  me 
wink." 

"All  !  I  see,  the  prisoner  is  an  old 
sinner.  He  knows  how  to  corrupt 
the  innocent." 

At  this  point  tlie  boys,  with  one 
accord,  sent  up  a  dismal  groan — they 
saw  no  chance  of  being  "corrupted" 
just  then. 

"Is  that  all,  John?"  asked  the 
sergeant.  "Didn't  you  catch  any 
words  that  passed  between  the  plot- 
ters?" 

"O  yes,  sir,  I  heard  this  man  say, 
'you  must  find  a  chance  to  smuggle 
me  in  some  time  to-night,'  and  the 
soldier  said,  'that  may  be  difficult,' 
then,  after  a  moments  thought,  this 
one  said  something  about  bringing 
some  one  out  to  liim." 

"Isee,  Iseet"  exclaimed  the  ser- 
geant; "there  was  another,  probably 
an  officer,  concerned  in  the  plot.  la 
that  all?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Step  down — that  is,  stand  to  one 
side.  Bring  on  the  next  witness, 
sheriff — I  mean  Tim." 

"Here  he  is,  sir,  Billy  Duffy." 

"Well,  William,  look  upon  the 
prisoner  and  tell  me,  did  you  ever 
see  his  face  before?" 

"Think  I  have,  yer  honor,"  an- 
swered Billy,  carelessly. 

"Ah!  wbeu  and  where?" 

"He  was  jumping  bounties  in  Con- 
necticut, more  than  a  year  ago." 

"Ah-h-h!"  exclaimed  the  ser- 
geant. 

"O-o-o!"  groaned  the  boys,  and  a 
look  of  bewildered  astonishment  set- 
tled on  the  face  of  the  farmer. 

"Are  you  quite  sure  of  what  you 
say?"  asked  the  sergeant,  seriously. 

"Oh,  yes,"  answered  Billy,  "I  re- 
member him  well.  I  have  good  cause 
to— he  picked  my  pocket  of  a  heavy 
gold  hunting-case  watch  over  on 
Grapevine  Point  one  day." 

"He  did?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  sir.  You  remember 
that  watch,  Jim  Pender — the  one  I 
lent  you  the  night  you  went  courting 
the  Hillhouse  avenue  girl?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Jim,  with  an  hon- 
est look,  "I  remember  it  very  well." 

"Well,  that's  the  watch  he  robbed 
me  of,  and  I  swore  I'd  be  even  with 
him  some  day,  and  now  the  time  has 
come." 

"Look-a-liere,"  cried  Gripper  ner- 
vously,   "what's    all  this    nonsense 


you're  a  gettiu'  off?  I  never  was  in 
that  miserable  little  State  of  Con- 
necticut in  all  my  life,  and  what's 
more,  never  expect  te  be  there, 
either." 

"You're  more  than  half  right,  any- 
way, I  suspect,  old  man,"  said  Larry 
O'Brien,  with  a  chuckle;  "the  fact 
is,  you  won't  live  to  get  so  far  as 
Connecticut." 

"What's  that  you  say?" 

"Silence  in  the  court!"  said  Ser- 
geant Small,  sternly.  "Go  on  with 
your  testimony,  Mr.  Duffy." 

"Am  I  to  tell  all  I  to  tell  all  I  know 
about  the  prisoner?" 

"Certainly,  everything. " 

"Well,  sir,  this  man  is  not  at  all 
what  he  seems. " 

"What!  how's  that?" 

"He  is  acting  a  part  when  he 
claims  to  be  a  farmer.  He  was  act- 
ing a  part  when  he  was  in  Connecti- 
cut, more  than  a  year  ago." 

"Acting  a  part!  who  is  he  then?" 

"In  pointof  fact,  he's  alieutenant- 
general  in  the  Confederate  army!" 

"Oh,  what  a  lie!"  groaned  Grip- 
per. 

"And  the  bosom  friend  of  General 
Lee,"  added  Duffy. 

""That's  another  whopper;  never 
saw  Lee  in  all  my  life,  I  tell  yer." 

"This  is  getting  serious,"  said  the 
sergeant,  with  a  solemn  shake  of  the 
head.  "Are  you  sure  of  what  you 
say,  comrade?  " 

"Certainly,"  was  Billy's  unblnsh- 
ing  answer;  "and  it  so  happens  I  am 
able  to  fully  account  for  his  being 
here  at  this  moment." 

"We  are  listening." 

"Well,  sir,  it  grew  out  of  a  serious 
conference  between  him  and  Lee.  He 
saw  that  the  South  could  never  whip 
us  in  the  regular  way,  and  at  length 
told  Lee  so.  Then  when  the  rebel 
commander-in-chief  acknowledged 
that  he  was  right,  and  asked  him 
what  he  would  advise,  he  said: 

"  'Let  some  officer  with  a  pleasing 
person  and  good  address  disguise 
himself  as  a  substantial  Pennsylva- 
nia farmer,  and  make  his  way  into 
the  Union  lines.  Then  let  him  pick 
out  some  boy  and  claim  him  as  his 
or  bound  apprentice,  and  get  away 
with  him.  When  he's  secured  the 
first  in  this  way,  let  him  go  back  and 
secure  another  and  another,  using  a 
different  disguise  each  time,  if  he 
likes.  In  that  way,  don't  you  see, 
we  can  soon  carry  off  the  whole  Union 
army,  and  at  no  great  risk  of  being 
shot,  either,  which  is  a  consideration 
worthy  of  attention.'  " 

"You  are  the  worst  liar  I  ever 
heard!"  said  the  astonished  farmer. 

"Sir!"  said  Billy,  with  dignity. 

"Go  on,  Mr.  Duft'y,"  commanded 
the  sergeant,  "and  tell  us  what  Gen- 
eral Lee  said  to  the  prisoner's  sug- 
gestion." 

"He  said,  as  he  grasped  the  pris- 
oner's hand : '  my  dear  general,  I  like 
your  idea  very  much ;  but  where  in 
the  world  can  we  find  just  the  right 
man — I  mean  with  a  pleasing  person 


and  good  address?  for  in  truth  these 
things  do  count  with  the  Yankees, 
there's  no  denying  it.' 

"  And  then  our  friend  here 
straightened  himself  up  and  striking 
his  manly  bosom  with  his  shapely 
right  hand,  said : 

"  'General  Lee,  I  am  not,  I  believe, 
a  vain  man,  but  1  know  my  merits, 
both  of  peison  and  mind.  If  1  am 
handsome,  "tis  as  God  made  me,  and 
as  for  my  address,  deign  to  remember 
that  I  have  always  associated  with 
gentlemen.  In  short,  I  am  just  the 
man  you  want;  I  will  undertake  the 
important  mission.  One  by  one  I  will 
bring  off  the  whole  Union  army,  I 
swear  it!'  " 

"Good  heavens,  what  an  awful 
plot!"  exclaimed  the  sergeant,  roll- 
ing his  eyes  ujjward  in  holy  horror. 

"  Terrible!  "  murmured  Snowdon 
and  O'Brien. 

The  rest  of  the  boys  indulged  in 
another  dismal  groan. 

"  You  understand  it  all  no  w, "  Duffy 
continued,  "Lee  gladly  accepted  his 
projiosition  and  so  you  see  how  he 
hiipi)ens  to  be  among  us.  I  tell  you, 
sergeant  and  comrades,  this  thing 
strikes  right  home  to  us.  After  car- 
rying off'  the  Lord  only  knows  how 
many  of  our  brave  boys,  he  under- 
takes to  deplete  our  own  comi>any!" 

"Ah!    1   see — I   understand,"   ex- 
claimed the  sergeant,  "and  of  course^ 
he's  communicating  with  Lee  all  thel 
time,  eh?"  jr 

"O,  of  course,"  said  Billy,  readily 
taking  the  hint,  "and  there's  where 
more  of  his  ingenious  and  diabolical 
work  comes  in.  How  do  you  think 
he  does  it?" 

"Hum,  can't  say.  Evidently^he's 
got  a  head  capable  of  plotting' any 
deviltry." 

"You're  right  there,  as  I  shall  pres- 
ently prove." 

"We're  listening." 

"Well  he  has  a  curious  mongrel 
cur  that  follows  him  about  wherever 
te  goes,  and  when  he's  got  anything 
to  communicate  to  his  chief,  he  writes 
it  on  thin  paper,  crams  thepaper  into 
a  piece  of  meat,  makes  the  dog  swal- 
low it  whole,  and  posts  him  oft'  to 
find  Lee,  who,  knowing  the  dodge, 
gives  the  cur  an  emetic,  and  so  makes 
him  throw  up  his  dispatches." 

Another  groan  from  all  the  boys. 

"Sergeant  with  all  due  deference, 
I  think  we've  heard  enough  to  con- 
demn a  dozen  spies,"  said  Corporal 
Snowden  solemnly. 

"Indeed  we  have,"  assented  the 
grave  judge.  "And  now  the  only 
thing  left  for  us  to  do  is  to  pass  sen- 
tence." 

"Of  course." 

"And  that  sentence  must  be " 

"Death!"  exclaimed  the  boys  in  a 
breath. 

"Ah!  but  this  is  an  aggravated 
case,"  said  Steve  Hughes.  "Hang- 
ing's too  good  for  such  a  man." 

"You're  quite  right,  Steve,"  nod- 
ded the  seigeant.  "By  what  death 
shall  he  die  then?" 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


There  was  a  moment  of  unbroken 
Bilence,  and  all  looked  toward  Billy 
Duffy. 

"I  have  it! "  exclaimed  Billy  at 
last.     "Let's  bury  him  alive!" 

"The  very  tliiiis!"  shouted  the 
boys.  "We'll  bury  ithe  old  spy  alive!" 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

POOR    GRIPPER    FINDS    HIS    WAY   TO 
THE    BOTTOMLESS   P,IT. 

"Let  a  dozen  set  to  work  at  once 
and  dig  a  grave,"  commaHded  the 
sergeant. 

The  boys  rushed  away  with  a  shout 
and  the  farmer  pleaded  in  vain  for 
mercy. 

"Yer  all  wrong.  I'm  as  good  a 
man  as  any  ov  yei-,"  he  moaned. 
Then  with  another  gasp,  "Oh!  what'll 
ther  old  woman  say  when  she  hears 
of  it!" 

But  it  was  all  of  no  use,  the  dig- 
ging went  on  steadily  and  soon  the 
grave  was  readj'.  Then  they  led  the 
unhappy  man  to  its  brink. 

"Giles  Gripper,  have  you  anything 
to  say  before  we  proceed  to  carry 
out  tlie  just  sentence  that  has  been 
pronounced  against  you?  "  asked  the 
sergeant  gravely. 

The  farmer  gazed  upon  the  un- 
friendly faces  in  the  crowd  which 
surrounded  him,  looked  down  into 
the  gaping  grave  at  his  feet,  gave  a 
profound  sigh,  and  then  blurted  out: 

"Go  on  with  yer  durned  old  funeral ; 
reckon  as  how  it'll  save  me  burial 
expenses,  any  way." 

"What  a  hardened  sinner!"  groan- 
ed Corporal  Snowden. 

"What  a  precious  old  file!"  mut- 
tered Billy  Duffy. 

"Better  blindfold  him,  sergeant," 
suggested  Jim  Pender. 

"Of  course,"  and  a  handkerchief 
was  tightly  bound  over  his  eyes,  ef- 
fectually shutting  out  all  light. 

The  miserable  man  was  then  low- 
ered into  the  narrow  grave,  and  dirt 
thrown  upon  him. 

"He's  gone  oft'  the  handle,  boys!" 
exclaimed  Duff'y  suddenly. 

"Sure!"  asked  the  seigeant  anxi- 
ously. 

"Yes,  look  for  yourself." 

The  sergeant  let  himself  down  into 
the  grave  and  carefully  examined 
the  victim. 

"Only  fainted,"  he  said  at  last. 
"But  it's  a  dead  faint,  that  is  cer- 
tain." 

"Then  hustle  him  out  lively] and 
let's  sew  him  up  in  the  blanket  and 
take  him  to  that  confoundedly  dark 
cave  that  Johnny  Loftus  discovered. 
He'll  til  ink  sure  that  he's  in  his  grave 
or  the  bottomless  pit  when  he  comes 
to  there." 

"You're  right  Billy,"  exclaimed 
Ed.  Lillie,  "and  we'll  have  just  loads 
and  loads  of  fun — you  bet." 

Poor  Gripper  was  now  lifted  out 
of  the  grave,  and  his  arms  folded 
across  his  breast,  were  tied  in  that 
position,  his  feet  were  also  tied  to- 


gether. He  was  then  wrapped  up  in 
an  army  blanker,  which  was  secured 
by  strings,  the  bandage,  of  course, 
was  still  left  over  his  eyes. 

"Ifow,  then,"  said  Duffy,  when  all 
their  arrangements  were  completed, 
"  let's  take  him  to  the  cave,  it's  more 
like  a  grave  than  anything  else,  and 
we  can  all  set  around  and  wake  the 
corpse." 

"Agreed!"  and  the  unconscious 
farmer  was  conveyed  to  a  low  and 
dark  cave  at  no  great  distance,  where 
he  was  carefully  lain  ujjon  the  ground. 

"Now  then,"  said  Joe  O'Brien, 
"let's  go  away  and  leave  him  to  him- 
self for  awhile." 

"No,  no!  what's  the  use  of  that?' 
exclaimed  Duffy,  "Let's  stay  right 
here.  If  we  fasten  a  blanket  over 
the  entrance,  he  can't  see  us,  even  if 
we  take  the  bandage  from  his  eyes." 

"That's  so,"  said  the  corporal, 
"and  if  we  stay  and  keep  mighty 
quiet,  we  shall  soon  hear  what  he 
thinks  of  death  and  the  other  world. " 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Duff'y; 
"but  I  propose  to  get  even  more  fun 
than  that  out  of  him.  But  you  shall 
see  for  yourselves.  Now  then,  hang 
up  a  blanket,  some  of  you,  you  can 
drive  a  peg  or  two  into  the  cracks 
over  the  entrance  there  easy  enough. 
The  rest  sit  down  and  kec])  <iiiict;  he 
may  cdinv  iduikI  at  any  nidiiu'iit  now." 

Nearly  tla-  wliolc  cdniiiany  had  by 
this  time  crowded  its  way  into  the 
cave,  which  was  by  no  means  a  large 
one.  The  blanket  was  at  last  sus- 
Ijended  over  the  opening,  and  every 
ray  of  light  shut  out,  then  Duffy  re- 
moved the  handkerchief  from  the 
farmer's  eyes. 

"Now,"  he  whispered,  "keep  quiet 
ever  mother's  son  of  you;  he'll  be 
coming  round  before  you  know  it,  and 
I  don't  want  the  fun  spoiled." 

The  boys  fixed  themselves  the  best 
way  they  could,  and  waited  in  anx- 
ious ex])ectancy. 

Minute  after  minute  passed,  and 
still  the  farmer  showed  no  signs  of 
returning  life. 

"Be  ther  powers  !"  muttered  Tim, 
at  last,  "af  he  don't  come  round 
purty  (luick,  oi  shall  think  ther  divil 
has  got  him  sure." 

"Hist!  Tim,"  whispered  Billy 
warningly,  "he's  just  moved  his 
head,  not  a  word— not  a  sound  now  !" 

At  that  moment  the  farmer  uttered 
a  dismal  moan,  then,  in  a  measure, 
his  faculties  seemed  to  be  restored  to 
him. 

"Good  Lord  !  where  am  I  ?"  he  ex- 
claimed in  a  scarcely  audible  whis- 
per.    Then,  after  a  moment: 

"  Ah  I  I  remember  now,  them  con- 
founded soldiers  buried  me  alive  ! 
Oh,  LorcJ  !  what  will  become  of  ther 
old  woman  ?'' 

Then,  after  another  pause,  and  in 
an  aggravated  tone. 

"Ah  !  I  know  what'll  become  of 
her  fast  enough,  she'll  up  and  marry 
Hans  Frseger,  my  hired  man.  I've 
noticed  she's  felt  er  sort  o'  sneakin' 
kindness  for  him  for  some  time.   But 


won't  I  haunt  'em  if  she  does  !    That 
is,  if  I  

"Lord  !  how  dark  it  is  here,  an' 
how  tight  they  crowded  the  earth 
down  outer  me.  I  can't  move  a  peg. 
I'd  scarcely  know  I'd  got  any  body — 
Thunder  !  p'r'aps  I  hain't !  Why, 
of  course  not !  that  is,  I'm  jist  a 
spirit  fastened  up  here  somehow — 
new  born,  so  ter  speak.  But  where 
am  I  ?  can  this  be  — ." 

"Hell !"  exclaimed  Duffy,  in  a  deep 
hollow  voice. 

"Oh,  Lord  !"  groaned  poor  Grip- 
per, and  again,  from  very  fright,  he 
became  unconscious. 

This  the  boys  quickly  discovered, 
and  some  were  for  ending  the  farce 
before  it  became  a  tragedy.  But 
Duff'y  pleaded  for  a  little  more  fun, 
and  agreed,  if  the  rest  would  see  him 
through  it,  to  land  the  farmer  plump 
in  his  own  bed  before  he  awoke  to 
the  fact  that  he  was  still  in  the  land 
of  the  living. 

"Well,  liave  it  your  own  way,"  said 
Sergeant  Small,  but  keep  quiet  now, 
he's  coming  round  again."' 

At  that  moment  the  farmer  uttered 
a  weary  sigh,  and  then  seemed  to  be 
intently  listening. 

"  I  heard  it — I  surely  heard  it,"  be 
at  length  muttered,  "some  dark 
si)int— ]iroliably  the  evil  one  himself 
answcied  my  very  tli(ui.t;lits,  and  told 
nie  ]  was  in  liell  !  can  it  lie  jiossible? 
Is  this  indeed  the  bottomless  pit  into 
which  all  the  wicked  are  cast?" 

"It  is  !  said  Duffy,  in  the  same  deep 
hollow  voice  in  which  he  had  before 
spoken. 

"Oh,  Lord  !"  groaned  the  unliap- 
py  victim,  "and  why  am  I  here  ?  I've 
been  a  church  member  for  years  an' 
years." 

"Yes,  and  a  most  infernal  hypo- 
crite too,"  said  Billy. 

"But — but — I  was  as  good  as  most 
of  my  neighbors." 

"That,  as  you  very  well  know,  is 
no  excuse,  when  death  comes  every 
tub  must  stand  on  its  own  bottom." 

"But  what  did  1  do  while  on  earth 
that  was  so  awful  bad?" 

"You  were  not  a  poor  man  were 
you?" 

"N-no— not  so  very  poor." 

"Wasn't  you  quite  well  off"? 
Didn't  you  own  a  good  farm,  free 
and  clear  from  all  incumbrance  ? 
wasn't  it  well  stoclAd?  and  hadn't 
you  a  snug  little  sum  in  the  bank 
besides?" 

"Ye — ye — yes,  I  suppose  all  that's 
true." 

"And  can  you  point  to  one  single 
charitable  act  that  you  have  ever 
performed?  Where  is  the  widow 
whom  you  have  ever  befriended? 
Where  is  the  orphan  you  have  ever 
succored?    Where — " 

"Hold  up,  Mr.  Devil,  I  befriended 
one  orphan  any  way — Tony  Tibbits, 
I  give  him  a  good  home,  an'  made  a 
regular  pet  on  him— me  an'  my  wife." 

"Giles  Gripper,"  said  Billy,  in  his 
most  terrible  tone  of  voice,  "do  yon 
presume  to   think  that  you  can  de- 


THE  WAR. LIBRARY. 


13 


eeive  me?  You  befriend  Ton.y  Tib- 
bits.  You  give  him  a  good  "home. 
You  malve  a  pet  of  him.  Wliy,  you 
ivorked  the  poor  boy  almo.st  to  death, 
in  fact,  made  him  do  a  strong  man's 
(vork,  that's  the  way  yon  befriended 
him.  You  and  your  wife  made  a  re- 
gular drudge  of  him  in  the  house, 
fed  him  on  your  leavings,  and  made 
him  sleep  in  an  old  tumble  down 
shed,  that's  the  home  you  gave  him, 
and  as  for  clothes,  you  never  allow- 
ed him  but  one  poor  suit  at  a  time, 
for  every  day  and  Sunday,  so  that 
when  that  one  was  stolen,  your  wife 
was  obliged  to  steal  a  wounded  drum- 
mer's uniform  to  replace  it  with,  and 
j-ou  never  give  him  a  dime  of  spend- 
ing money  in  j-our  Yvi&—thaVs  the 
kind  of  pet  you  made  of  him.  Pali! 
[  can't  bear  to  talk  with  you.  Beel- 
gebub,  old  fellow,  just  stir  up  the 
big  brimstone  fire,  we  must  give  our 
new  friend  a  warm  reception — ^a  sort 
of  foretaste  of  tlie  comforts  he  is  to 
enjoy  among  us." 

"Oh  Lord  !'  gasped  Gripper,  with 
another  moan,  and  again  he  became 
unconscious. 

CHAPTER  X. 

GENERAL    LEE    HAS     AN    INTERVIEW 
WITH  MRS.  GRIPPER. 

"Now  then,"  said  Duffy,  hurried- 
ly, "I've  got  something  here  that  one 
of  you  must  help  me  to  make  him 
swallow.  It  will  keep  him  in  a 
drowsy  state  for  the  next  four  or  five 
liours,  and  by  that  time,  I  promise 
you,  we  shall  be  well  rid  of  him. 
Pull  down  the  blanket,  Steve." 

The  blanket  was  bulled  down,  and 
the  dose— whatever  it  was,  adminis- 
tered. 

"  Nowtheu,"  said  Bill,  "we'll  leave 
him  where  he  is  till  night;  and  then 
half  a  dozen  of  our  best  fellows  shall 
see  the  play  out." 

About  an  hour  after  dark,  Billy 
Duff,  Jim  Pender,  Steve  Hughes, 
Tim  Oooney  and  the  two  Johnnies, 
as  John  Doftus  and  John  Faulk- 
ner were  called,  silently  entered 
the  cave. 

"Here  he  is,  all  right  boys,"  whis- 
pered Billy,  after  feeling  around  for 
some  time,  "and  as  quiet  as  a  fresh 
corpse,  my  dose  worked  beautiful- 
ly." 

"  'Tis  yerself  that  can  do  it.  Bill 
Duffy,"  said  Tim  admiringly. 

"You  bet,"  laughed  Billy,  "and 
aow  the  question  is,  how  shall  we 
2:et  him  home?" 

That's  easily  answered,"  Johnny 
Loftus,  "just  lift  him  on  my  back, 
i  can  carry  him  and  not  half  try." 

"I  believe  you,  and  that  I  think 
vill  be  the  best  way,  at  least  you  can 
iarry  him  till  you  get  a  little  tired, 
lud  then  Steve  and  Tim  can  have  a 
%o  at  it. " 

"Pooh  !"  said  Loftus  contemptu- 
ously, "just  lift  him  up,  will  you  ?" 

The  unconscious  farmer  was  boost- 
ed into  position  and  the  squad  start- 
ed off. 


"You  fixed  it  all  right  to  get 
through  the  lines,  Billy?"  said  Pen- 
der. 

"Yes,  of  course,  come  ahead,"  and 
they  hurried  on  toward  the  road. 

Having  passed  the  wondering  sen- 
tinels, they  kept  on  until  they  had 
almost  reached  Gripper's  house, 
wheu  Billy  brought  the  squad  to  a 
halt. 

"Now  you  fellows  wait  here,"  he 
said,  until  you  see  that  the  coast  is 
clear — that  is  until  you  see  the 
old  woman  start  off' around  the  house 
with  me,  then  take  the  old  man  in. 
You  know  where  his  bedroom  is 
Jim,  Tony  told  you.  When  you  find 
it,  strip  him  and  put  him  to  bed,  then 
make  yourselves  scarce  as  soon  as 
possible.  But  if  you  hear  him  call 
out— 'Hold  on  boys,  don't  shoot !' 
why,  come  to  me.  Do  jou  under- 
stand?" 

"Yes,  all  right, — drive  ahead,  and 
Billy  advanced  to  the  front  door  and 
gave  a  loud  knock. 

Mrs.  Gripper  did  not  keep  him 
long  waiting.  She  was  anxiously 
expecting  word  from  her  husband 
and  Tony,  and  thinking  a  mes.sage  of 
some  kind  had  come  from  them, 
hastened  to  open  the  door. 

"Who  be  yer?"  she  instantly  de- 
manded on  seeing  Billy. 

"Hist !"  he  replied  warningly, 
"Can  I  trust  you,  madam  ?" 

"Trust  me  ?  of  course  yer  can — if 
yer  pay  me  fur  keeijing  yer  secret." 

"Ah!  mercenary  womac!  But  no 
matter,  let  it  be  as  you  say.  I  will 
tell  you  my  awful  secret  and  pay 
you  lor  keeping  it— But  please  step 
this  way. " 

"Why,  what  d'ye  want  me  ter 
come  out  there  fur,  I'd  like  ter 
know?" 

"There  may  be  some  one  listening 
about  here.  Ain't  there  some  one  in 
the  house?" 

"No — that  is  nobody  but  Hans, 
our  hired  man.  He's  kinder  been 
lookin'  after  things  about  ther  house 
since  my  old  man  started  out  ter  find 
our  bound  boy." 

"Hum,  Hans,  eh?  Perhaps  you'd 
belter  call  him  out  too — if  he  can  be 
trusted." 

"Lors-a-me!  Of  course  he  can,  sar- 
tin  sure,  I'll  answer  for  it." 

"Then  call  him." 

"Hans!  Hans!  come  here,  you're 
wanted,"  and  presently  a  sturdy 
looking  young  Pennsylvania  Dutch- 
man made  his  ai^pearance  in  the  door- 
way. " 

"Now,  then,  sir,"  said  the  woman, 
"what  have  you  to  say  to  us?" 

"Where's  your  barn?"  asked  Billy. 

"Over  there,"  was  the  answer. 

"Come  and  point  it  out  to  me." 

"Why,  if  you  just  go  round  the 
other  side  of  the  house,  you  can  see 
it  easy  enough." 

"I  dare  say:  but  I'd  much  rather 
you  two  would  show  me,  and  then 
Hans  must  go  to  it  with  me. " 

"Dot  vos  all  right,"  said  Hans. 
"Gome  on,  Mrs.  Glibber,"  and  so  the 


three  moyed  around  the  coriierof  the 
house  tOj>ether. 

Here  Dutty  brought  them  to  a 
stand  and  held  their  attention. 

"Before  we  go  any  further,"  he 
said,  "I  ought  to  tell  you  who  I  real- 
ly am;  for  my  conscience  would  not 
jiermit  me  to  deceive  you  in  this  mat- 
ter and  get  you  into  trouble  unwit- 
tingly." 

"Ah,  that's  right,  that's  fair,  sir," 
exclaimed  the  curious  woman,  "and 
now  for  the  land's  sake  who  be  yer, 
anyhow?" 

"Hist!  not  so  loud;  don't  give  it 
away  for  the  world.  Let  me  whisper 
it  in  your  ear.  I'm— can  I  trust 
you?" 

"Of  course  yer  can.  Come,  do  tell 
us  if  yer  ever  goin'  ter." 

"Ah,  dear  madam,  my  heart  almost 
fails  me.  Suj^pose  you  should  be 
tempted  to  send  word  to  General 
Meade,  what  would  become  of  me 
then?" 

"Good  heaA'ens,  what  can  the  man 
mean?  What  in  the  world  is  he 
driving  at?  Hans,  can  you  make 
out?" 

"Nein,  I  have  not  understand," 
answered  the  Dutchman,  stoically. 

"No  more  can  I;  do  tell  us,  sir." 

"Once  more  then,  madam,  listen," 
and  putting  his  lips  close  to  her  ears, 
he  whispered :  "I  am  General  Lee! 
Now  don't,  don't  give  it  away,  I 
beg." 

"General  Lee!  Good  Lord!"  ex- 
claimed the  woman,  starting  back 
aghast. 

"There,  I  told  yon  just  how  it 
would  be,"  said  Dufl'y,  bitterly. 
"You'll  have  a  whole  troop  of  Yan- 
kees down  upon  me  in  less  than  no 
time,  and  then  I  shall  be  hung,  per- 
haps drawn  and  quartered." 

"Oh,  Hans,  Hans,  what  shall  we 
do  with  him?"  asked  the  bewildered 
woman. 

"I  have  not  know,"  replied  the 
man,  "unless  you  vos  took  him  in  an' 
give  him  somedings  to  eat." 

"That's  it,"  she  exclaimed, bright- 
ening up;  "you  want  your  supper, 
sir,  then  we  can  talk  afterwards." 

"Ah,  dear  madam,  how  thoughtful 
—how  kind!  just  as  that  sweet  child 
Tony  said  I  should  find  you." 

"What!  you  know  where  that  lit- 
tle scamp  Tony  is?" 

"Don't  say  scamp,  dear  madam;  I 
have  heard  him  say  how  he  loved 
you;  I  have  heard  his  pitiable  story. " 

"Ah,  and  what  is  his  story?" 

"After  delivering  the  message 
with  which  he  was  intrusted  he 
started  to  return  home  and  losi  his 
way.  He  was  then  taken  in  charge 
by  a  Union  picket,  and  held  by  them 
until  the  next  day,  when  the  boy, 
picket  and  all  were  captured  by  my 
men,  and  he  is  now  a  prisoner  in  our 
hands." 

"An'  so  ther  rebels  have  really 
got  him, have  they  ?" 

With  great  dignity: 

"He  is  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of 
the  Confederates,  ma'am." 


14 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


"O,  I  beg  pardon,  I'm  sure.  You've 
really  got  liim  though?  An'  ain't 
yer  goin'  ter  give  him  up  ter  me?" 

"Do  you  really  wish  it?" 

"Of  course  I  do." 

"Then  it  shall  be  so.  The  moment 
1  again  reach  my  army  I  will  send 
him  to  yon,  with  a  pair  of  beautiful 
diamond  earrings,  which  I  shall  beg 
you  to  accept  as  a  memento  of  this 
interesting  occasion." 

"You're  very  kind,  General,  an'  I 
thank  yer  a  thousand  times.  But, 
mercy  me!  now  that  I  look  at  yer, 
how  is  it  that  you're  wearin'  a  blue 
uniform!  an'  I  thought  General  Lee 
iiad  a  gray  beard?" 

"Ah,  I  foresaw  that  you  would  ask 
those  questions.  The  fact  is,  mad- 
am, that  [  was  most  anxious  to  know 
whether  Meade  was  likely  to  follow 
me  up  promptly  after  his  victory,  or 
let  me  get  back  into  Virginia  at  my 
leisure,  and  in  my  own  way;  and  as 
this  information  was  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  me,  1  resolved  to  ob- 
tain it  myself;  so  I  borrowed  this 
uniform  from  one  of  my  prisoners, 
shaved  off  my  beard,  and  entered  the 
Union  lines;  and  now  comes  the  un- 
pleasant part  of  my  story." 

"Do  let's  hear  it.  General,  I'm 
awfully  interested." 

"It  leaked  out  through  the  prison- 
er whose  uniform  I  wear  that  I  had 
left  the  Confederate  lines  in  dis- 
guise. Some  Yankee  spies  got  hold 
of  it  and  at  once  reported  to  Meade, 
and  now  his  troops  are  scouring  the 
country  for  me.  I  may  be  taken  at 
any  moment— indeed,  if  you  do  not 
use  the  utmost  caution,  I  may  be 
talven  before  your  very  eyes." 

"General  Lee,  I  would " 

"Ah,  Mailain,  what  liave  you  done? 
You  have  lirtiaycd  me.  See.  yonder 
comes  a  si|iiad  of  the  enemy.  Hold 
on,  boys!  don't  sliool!  I — I  surren- 
der!" 

The  boys,  who  had  succeeded  in 
yetting  the  old  man  into  hia  bed,  and 
were  now  making  toward  the  road, 
on  liearing  Duffy's  voice,  turned, 
and  at  once  hastened  toward  him. 

"You  surrender,  do  you?"  said 
Jim  Pender,  who  quickly  took  the 
cue. 

"  Yes,  comrade ;  aud  I  will  cheer- 
fully bear  testimony  before  General 
Meade  that  it  was  you  who  captured 
me.  Ah!  it  isn't  everyday  that  you 
take  such  an  illustrious  prisoner  as 
General  Lee." 

"That's  so.  General,  you  uever 
made  a  truer  remark.  But  we  can"t 
stay  here  all  night;  so  come  on," 
and  after  a  sad  good  bye  to|Mrs. 
Gripper  and  Hans,  the  great  Con- 
federate general  started  oft'  with  his 
captors- 


CHAPTEE  XI. 


MES.  GRIPPER  AND  HANS  ARE  FRIGHT- 
ENED BY  THE  FARMER'S  SHOT. 


"Hans  what  a  great  pity  it  is  that 
them  soldiers  came  .just  as  they  did," 


said  Mrs.  Gripper  regretfully,  as  she 
started  slowly  toward  the  house. 

"Why  vosdot?"  asked  Hans. 

"Why,  don't  you  see,  if  we  had 
only  got  him  safely  into  the  barn, 
you  could  have  run  oft"  to  the  other 
general — Meade,  aud  tlien  we  should 
have  got  a  big  reward,  p'r'haps  four 
or  live  thousand  dollars,  then  if  my 
old  man  didn't  come  back,  you  and  I 
could  have  settled  right  down  here 
in  mighty  comfortable  shape,  and  if 
he  did,  why  we  could  have  pulled 
up  stakes  an'  gone  oft' together." 

"Yaw,"  grunted  Hans. 

"Five  thousand  dollars  is  a  good 
deal  of  money,  Hans,"  persisted  the 
old  woman. 

"Yaw." 

By  this  time  they  had  entered  the 
house,  and  ou  Hans  hinting  that  he 
would  like  a  leetle  somediugs  more 
to  eat,  Mrs.  Gripper  bestirred  her- 
self, aud  soon  placed  a  piece  of  cold 
spare-rib,  .some  potatoes,  bread  and 
pie  ou  the  table,  and  begged  him  to 
draw  up  aud  help  himself. 

When  it  came  to  the  matter  of  eat- 
ing, Hans  was  in  no  way  "backward 
in  coming  forward,"  he  drew  his 
chair  up  to  the  table,  seized  knife 
and  fork,  and  went  to  work  with 
alacrity  and  enthusiasm. 

To  see  him  one  would  think  he  had 
not  tasted  food  in  twenty-four  hours, 
and  would  have  been  incredulous 
when  informed  that  he  had  eaten  a 
hearty  supper  only  a  little  before 
sun-down. 

For  some  time  Mrs.  Gripper  watch- 
ed the  stalwart  feeder  in  silence.  At 
length  she  burst  out — 

"Ah  !  Hans,  how  you  do  enjoy  my 
victuals." 

"Yaw,"  grunted  the  young  Dutch- 
man, with  his  mouth  full. 

"You  know  when  good  cookin's 
set  before  you,"  she  proceeded. 

"You  shust  pet." 

Tenderly  : 

"Ah,  Hans,  how  I  should  love  to 
cook  for  you  all  your  life  ! " 

"Dot  vos  all  righd,  Mrs.  Grib- 
ber. " 

"You  would  really  like  it  too?"' 

"You  vos  know  your  peesness, 
Mrs.  Gribber,  you  vos  geep  der  house 
in  goot  shape,  you  vos  set  er  goot 
dable.     Dot  vos  all  righd." 

"And  — and  —  Hans,  you  would 
realli/  like  to  live  with  me  always  ?" 

"1  vos  willin',  if  der  old  man  bays 
me  all  righd." 

"Ah,  but  if  he  don't  come  home 
again,  Hans. — And  really,  I  don't 
think  he  will  now.  I'm  quite  sure 
some  accident  has  happened  to  him. 
He  must  have  got  killed  by  mistake, 
either  by  the  Union  men  or  rebels, 
otherwise,  he  would  have  been  home 
before  this." 

"Dot  vos  so,"  said  Hans  slowly. 
"Der  old  man  don't  vos  like  ter  pe 
out  all  nights." 

"Yes,"  exclaimed  the  woman  ea- 
gerly, "and  so,  if  he  don't  come,  just 
see  how  nice  we  can  have  everything, 
you'll  take  charge  of  the   farm,  and 


I'll  make  the  butter  and  cheese,  and 
cook  for  yon." 

"Dot  vos  goot.  An'  how  much  vos 
you  bay  me,  Mrs.  Gribber?" 

"Why  —  why — don't  you  under- 
stand, Hans?  I— 1— thought  you 
liked  me,  that — that  you  loved  me, 
and  so— and  so  we'd  get  married, 
don't  you  see?" 

"O,  dot  vos  it,  hey?" 

"Why,  yes;  aud  then,  don't  you 
see,  we'd  own  everything  together, 
and  we  could  live  much  cheaper  as 
man  and  wife.  Just  come  and  see 
our  bedroom.  I  think  yon  have 
never  been  in  it  yet." 

Slowly  raising  from  his  seat,  and 
casting  a  regretful  glance  at  the 
remnants  of  the  spare-rib  (the  pota- 
toes, bread  and  pie  were  all  gone), 
Hans  followed  her  into  her  sleeping 
apartment. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  she  said  softly, 
"let  me  bring  a  light." 

"Yaw,"  he  grunted. 

She  returned  to  the  dining  room, 
and  snatching  up  the  lamp  which 
still  stood  ou  the  table,  hastened 
back. 

As  she  entered  the  bedroom,  and 
put  her  arm  lovingly  around  the 
Dutchman's  waist,  in  order  to  draw 
him  further  into  the  room,  a  deep 
groan,  which  seemed  to  come  from 
the  corner  beyond  the  bed,  startled 
them  both,  aud  made  the  woman  droj) 
the  light,  which,  fortunately,  was 
extinguished  without  doing  any 
harm. 

"Ter  duyfel  !"  exclaimed  Hans, 
"vot  vos  dot?" 

"Merciful  heavens  !  pardon  me,  a 
miserable  sinner,"  moaned  Mrs.  Grip- 
per. "It's  my  old  man's  ghost  come 
back  on  earth  to  haunt  me.  I  know 
it  is. " 

"Ter  duyfel !"  again  ejaculated 
Hans.  "A  ghost!  shust  let  me  get 
out  of  dis,  righd  away,pooty  quick," 
aud  he  made  for  the  point  where  he 
supposed  the  door  ought  to  be,  and 
tumbling  over  a  chair,  pitched  head 
forward  into  a  closet,  filled  with  the 
loving  Mrs.  Gripper's  wardrobe, 
among  which  he  became  so  entangled 
that  he  found  it  difiicult  to  extricate 
himself. 

Meantime,  Mrs.  Gripper  had  be- 
come bewildered,  and  falling  back- 
wards over  a  stool,  had  come  down 
so  emphatically  upon  a  somewhat 
dilipated  caiu'-bottom  chair,  that  she 
had  goni'  clean  through  it,  and  so 
was  imprisoned  there — shut  up  like 
a  jack-knife,  so  to  si)eak. 

Now  all  this  noise  and  confusion 
had  the  effect  of  rousing  the  drowsy 
farmer,  and  suddenly  he  started  up  in 
bed. 

"Oh,  darkness  impenetrable  !"  he 
moaned,  "not  a  ray  of  liglit,  not  a 
shadow  <if  hope  !  And  this  is  hell  !" 

The  woman  uttered  a  scream— not 
a  particularly  low  one — she  was  not 
in  a  position  to  give  full  play  to  her 
lungs.  And  Hans,  in  a  muffled  voice, 
from  among  the  skirts  and  petticoats, 
grunted  out: 


TRE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


15 


"Terduyfel !" 

Gripper  heeded  them  not,  e\en  if 
he  heard  them,  he  probably  supposed 
the  cries  came  from  some  other  lost 
spirits,  and  so  went  on : 

"Oh,  why  wasn't  1  a  better  man 
while  on  earth,  then  I  might  have 
been  in  the  kingdom  of  light  now, 
and  not  chained  down  here  in  the  pit 
of  darkness  and  despair." 

Then  something  seemed  to  come 
back  to  his  memory. 

"  Ah  !  he  said,  the  evil  one  himself, 
that  was— that  I  must  be  burned, 
and  he  sent  Beelzebub  to  stir  up  the 
tire,  I  wonder  if  he's  got  it  hot 
enough,  and  when  he's  coming  for 
me  ?" 

"Oh,  Lord  !  what  misery.  What 
horror  !  And  then  ter  think  that  my 
old  womans's  enjoying  everything  I 
left  behind  me  on  earth — p'r'aps  is 
auuried  to  that  Hans  Trseger  before 
tills.  She  wouldn't  waste  anytime 
about  it,  Zknow. 

"Eutjist  let  her  do  it,  an' I'll  haunt 
"em  botii,  every  time  ther  devil  will 
give  :ne  a  day  off,  an'  I  hope  that'll 
be  purty  often.  Jist  let  me  get  at 
'em  now  !" 

"Lord,  no,  Giles  !  don't  come  a 
near  me.  Jist  rest  quiet  in  yer  grave, 
can't  yer,  an'  let  us  alone." 

"Who — who  spoke  ?"  gasped  Grip- 
per wonderingly,  "that  sounded  like 
Nancy's  voice."  / 

"Of  course  it's  me,  Giles,  an'  I 
think  y'er  pesky  mean  ter  come  back 
here  an'  bother  me,  jist  'cause  I  want 
er  nuther  husband  now  you're  dead. 
Why  can't  yer  rest  quiet  in  yer 
grave,  like  any  decent  man  ?  Im 
sure  if  I  was  dead  you'd  marry  again 
fast  enough.  How  long  would  it  be, 
I'd  like  ter  know,  before  the  widow 
Bangs,  ther  bold  ugly  thing,  would 
be  a-standing  in  my  old  shoes?" 
And  in  her  anger  she  tried  te  extri- 
cate herself  from  her  uncomfortable 
position,  and,  naturally,  upset  the 
chair. 

In  falling,  her  head  came  in  violent 
contact  with  Hans'  overloaded  stom- 
ach. Not  being  able  to  see,  and  with 
his  mind  full  of  ghosts  and  super- 
natural apparitions,  the  Dutchman 
supposed,  of  course,  that  the  enraged 
shade  of  the  farmer  had  come  to  take 
vengeance  on  him  for  the  tender  pas- 
sion he  had  inspired  in  the  bosom  of 
his  widow.  So  he  at  once  set  up  a 
howl  of  fright,  and  began  kicking 
vigorously  with  his  big  feet,  his  arms 
being  so  entangled  that  he  could  not 
use  them. 

But  his  feet  did  fearful  execution, 
they  soon  knocked  to  pieces  the  chair 
he  had  tumbled  over,  and  then  tear- 
ing through  Mrs.  Gripper's  dress  and 
skirts,  sadly  bashed  her  shins,  and 
made  her  fairly  howl  with  pain. 

Meanwhile,  (irmly  persuaded  that 
he  was  among  the  lost  spirits,  all 
this  seemed  peifectly  natural  to 
( rripper,  who  i-emembered  that  he 
had  always  heard  while  on  eai-th 
that  Hades  was  anything  but  a  quiet 
Place. 


And  now  a  new  fancy  took  posses- 
sion of  him— probably  the  effects  of 
Duffy's  dose,  which  must  have  left 
his  throat  dry,  and  an  unpleasant 
taste  in  his  mouth. 

"Water!  water!"  he  cried,  "oh  I 
I'm  burning  up  inside,  fire  consumes 
me.     I'm  in  agony — agony  !" 

"Poor  old  critter,"  murmured  Mrs. 
Gripper,  for  the  moment  forgetting 
her  own  pains. 

"Ter  duyfels !  Why  don't  dot 
g:host  geep  quiet  und  go  avay,  I  vos 
like  to  know  ?" 

"Water  !  wa — " 

At  that  moment  there  came  a 
thundering  knock  on  the  outside 
door. 

"Oh,  Lord,  there  comes  Beelze- 
bub," groaned  Gripper. 

"Land  sakes  alive  !  what's  that?" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Gripper,  with  chat- 
tering teeth. 

"Ter  duyfels  !  dare  vas  ein  odder 
ghost,"  moaned  Hans. 

Bang  !  bang  !  bang  !  on  the  door, 
and  now  the  most  profound  silence 
reigned  in  the  bedroom. 

Bang !  bang  !  bang  !  and  then  a 
loud  "hallo,  there  !" 

But  no  one  moved. 

After  a  moment  Gripper  began  his 
groans  and  mutterings  again,  and 
Hans,  feeling  Mrs.  Gripper's  hand 
stealing  upward  toward  his  throat, 
became  frightened,  and  once  more 
began  to  kick  and  tumble  about. 
The  woman  screamed,  and  in  the 
midst  of  all  this  uproar,  a  bright 
light  burst  upon  the  scene,  and  a 
strong,  manly  voice  demanded,  in  a 
tone  ef  wonder  and  amazement: 

"What  the  deuce  is  to  pay  here,  I'd 
like  to  know?" 

Then,  as  he  caught  sight  of  the 
farmer  in  bed,  the  old  woman  on  the 
floor,  with  tattered  dress  and  skirts, 
and  the  chair  attachment,  and  poor 
Hans,  with  his  head  and  arms  envel- 
oped in  dresses,  skirts,  and  other 
female  wearing  apparel,  he  burst 
into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of  laughter. 


CHAPTEE  XII. 

THE   WAR    CORRESPONDENT   SETS 
THINGS   TO   RIGHTS. 

"Well,  well,"  exclaimed  the  stran- 
ger, as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  speak, 
"  this  beats  any  thing  I  ever  saw  be- 
fore in  all  my  eventful  life,  and  I've 
seen  a  good  deal  too.  I  wonder  what 
in  the  world  I  shall  come  across 
next." 

All  this  time  the  farmer  had  been 
sitting  up  in  bed,  regarding  the  in- 
truder attentively . 

"You  ain't  the  devil?"  he  asked 
at  last. 

"No,  I  should  hope  not,"  was  the 
laughing  reply;  "still  I  should  think 
someone  had  been  raising  the  devil 
here." 

"Nor  yet  Beelzebub?"  persisted 
the  farmer. 

"No,  nor  him  either,"  laughed  By- 
iiigtoii. 


"And  yet  I  have  seen  you  before." 

"Eight  again,  old  man." 

"Ah!  I  know  now,  you're  the  news 
paper  fellow  that  came  to  my  house 
the  first  night  of  the  great'  battle, 
and  who  got  me  into  all  this  trouble 
by  sending  Tony  Tibbits  off  to  the 
army. " 

"  I  got  you  into  trouble!  What  do 
you  mean,  old  boy?" 

"Ah,  sir,  it  was  through  you,  in 
the  first  place,  that  I  lost  my  life,— 
But  say,  how  come  it  that  you  too 
are  in  the  bottomless  pit  ?  Was  you 
so  awful  mean  and  wicked  while  on 
earth?" 

"Now,  old  man,  you've  got  me,  un- 
til this  minute  I  didn't  know  that  I 
was  in  the  bottomless  pit, — indeed, 
I  supposed  I  was  in  your  own  farm- 
house, near  Gettysburg.  But  to  tell 
the  exact  truth,  when  I  came  up  to 
your  door,  I  was  inclined  to  think 
that  pandemonium  had  broke  loose." 

"See  here,  mister,"  whimpered 
Mrs.  Gripper,  at  this  jjoint,  "if 
you've  got  any  of  ther  milk  o' 
human  kindness  left  inter  your 
soul,  I  wish  yerd  jist  come  here 
an'  jtull  this  cheer  off' on  me. 

Almost  dying  with  suppressed 
laughter,  Byington  obeyed.  He 
caught  hold  of  the  chair,  and 
after  two  or  three  vigorous  yanks 
pulled  it  oft.  He  then  helped  the 
dilapidated  woman  to  her  feet. 

With  a  bitter  groan  she  sank  into 
another  chair;  but  this  time  she  was 
careful  to  see  that  it  had  a  firm  wooil 
bottom  before  she  trusted  her  weight 
upon  it. 

Hans  was  next  extricated  from  his- 
nnpleasant  predicament,  and  as  he 
slowly  raised  himself  to  his  feet,  he 
merely  ejaculated— from  force  of  hab- 
it, jirobably: 

"Ter  duyfels!"  and  then  stareil, 
first  at  the  war  correspondent,  then 
at  Mrs.  Gripjier,  and  lastly  at  licr 
beibgged  husband  on  the  bed. 

"Now,  if  it's  all  the  same  to  you," 
said  Byington,  "I'd  like  to  have 
some  one  tell  me  the  meaning  of  all 
I've  seen  here.  What's  the  matter 
with  Mr.  Gripper?  and  what  were 
you  two  doing  on  the  floor  there  ?" 

He  had  addressed  himself  to  the 
farmer's  wife,  and  she  hastened  to 
answer: 

"We'd  been  out-doors,"  she  said, 
— "Hans  an'  me.  General  Lee  called 
us  out,  an'  wanted  Hans  ter  hide  him 
in  ther  barn  an' " 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  aston- 
ished Byington,  "General  Lee  want- 
ed to  hide  in  your  barn  !  What  in 
the  world  are  you  talking  about,  wo- 
man?" 

"Talkin'  about  what  really  hap- 
pened," she  affirmed,  "General  Lee 
didwuut  to  hide  in  our  barn,  didn't 
he,  Hans?" 

"Yaw,  dot  vos  such." 

"Yes,  indeed,  an'  he  would  a-done 
it  too,  if  six  Yankee  soldiers  hadn't 
a  come  up  an'  took  him  prisoner, 
wouldn't  he,  Hans?" 

"Yaw." 


16 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


"A  squad  of  Union  troops  captured 
him,  eh?" 

"Yes.  thej^  did." 

"Kig-ht  here  in  your  front  yard?" 

"Yes." 

"How  did  they  happen  along  so 
op]>ortunely  ?" 

"They  linew  he  was  somewhere 
hereabouts,"  and  were  out  in  search 
of  him." 

"This  is  news,"  muttered  Bying- 
ton  to  himself,  "Lee  a  prisoner  in 
the  hands  of  the  Federals!  I  won- 
der if  any  of  the  other  boys  have 
got  hold  of  it  yet.  If  they  hain't, 
by  Jove,  I  shall  be  pretty  well  up  in 
the  world.  Lord!  how  the  Tribunes 
will  go  off  to-morrow,"  and  he  began 
to  write  rapidly,  holding  his  pad  in 
his  left  baud,  and  shoving  the  pencil 
over  the  paper  with  his  right. 

"But  come,"  he  said  at  last,  "you 
haven't  told  me  the  whole  story  yet, 
go  on." 

"Why,  sir,  you  see,  after  the 
soldiers  had  carried  off  General 
Lee " 

"Stop!     How  long  ago  was  that?" 

"Let  me  see.  How  long  ago  was 
it,  Hans?     An  hour?" 

"Not  so  much  as  dot." 

"Half  an  hour?" 

"More." 

"All  right,"  said  Byington,  "say 
three-quarters,  and  go  on." 

"Well,  after  they'd  carried  him  off, 
we  came  inside,  an'  Hans  feelin'  hun- 
gry, I  got  him  something  to  eat. 

"Just  as  he  finished,  and  as  I  was 
thinkin'  of  puttin'  ther«things  away, 
we  both  heard  an  awful  groan,  com- 
in',  as  it  seemed  ter  us,  from  this 
here  very  room,  au'  as  yer  may  well 
suppose,  we  war  both  awfully  dis- 
turbed." 

"Why,  didn't  you  know  it  was  Mr. 
Gripper?" 

"Ah!  there  it  is,  yer  see,  sir,  we 
supposed  ther  old  man  was  dead." 

"Dead!  why  should  you  suppose 
so?" 

"Why,  you  know  how  you  sent 
Tony  Tibbits  away  that  night? 
Well,  he  never  came  back  at  all, 
an'  ther  moment  ther  battle  was 
over — that  is,  yesterday  mornin', 
Giles  started  out  ter  find  him,  an' 
we  hadn't  seen  nothin'  of  the  old 
mau  since,  so  we  supposed  he  must 
have  got  killed  by  mistake." 

"An'  I  was  killed,"  spoke  up  the 
farmer  abruptly;  "but  not  by  mis- 
take—no, not  be  a  long  shot." 

"How  was  that,  sir?"  asked  the 
correspondent  curiously. 

"  Why,  yer  see,  I  searched  all  day 
long  yesterday — I  suppose  it  was — 
for  that  pesky  boy,  an'  not  findin' 
him,  one  o'  ther  generals  gave  me 
quarters  last  night,  sayin'  as  how 
he'd  got  track  on  him  himself,  an' 
that  he'd  send  me  to  him  terday. 
Well,  he  did,  an'  a  young  soldier 
went  with  me;  an'  when  we  got  to 
ther  regiment  an'  company  where  ter 
boy  was,  ther  soldier  left  me,  and 
them  fellers  said  as  how  I  was  a  spy, 
an'  so  they  dug  a  grave  an'  buried 


me  alive,  that's  how  it  comes  that 
I'm  dead  now." 

"  Ah !  I  see,  "said  Byington  thought- 
fully.   Then  turning  to  the  woman: 

"Well,  go  on,  madam." 

"Where  was  1?  O,  I  remember. 
Hearin'  that  awful  groan,  we  rushed 
in  here;  but  it  bein'  dark,  we  couldn't 
see  nuthin',  so  1  went  out  for  a  light, 
an'  jist  as  I  came  back  with  it,  we 
heer'd  ther  awful  est  noise  yer  ever 
listed  to  au'  I  was  so  skeert  that  I 
dropped  ther  lamp — there  'tis  now. 
Tlien  Hans  tumbled  over  a  cheer,  an' 
fell  inter  ter  closet,  an'  I  sot  down  in 
er  nuther  an'  went  clean  through  it. 
An'  when  I  heer'd  Giles  tell  as  how 
he  was  in  ther  bad  place  an'  had 
come  ter  haunt  me,  I  tumbled  over, 
as  you  found  me." 

"Ah!  I  see  it  all  now,"  said  Bying- 
ton, with  a  smile.  "And  so,  old 
man,  you  -really  think  your  dead,  do 
you?" 

"Of  course;  how  can  a  man  that's 
been  buried  be  alive?" 

"Such  things  have  happened  be- 
fore, and  will  haijpen  again,"  said 
the  correspondent. 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Yes;  and  in  your  own  case,  I 
think  I  can  tell  you  about  how  it  was. 
You  were  speedily  dug  up  after  you 
were  buried,  and  when  you  revived  a 
little,  being  still  somewhat  dazed, 
cams  home  mechanically,  and  with- 
out knowing  what  j'ou  were  about. 
Your  wife  and  Hans  being  outside, 
you  found  the  front  door  open,  and 
so  walked  lu  and  came  right  here, 
uaturally  enough,  and  went  to  bed. 
After  a  while  you  got  back  your 
faculties  a  little  more — enough  so  that 
you  could  recall  tlie  past,  in  a  meas- 
ure, and  now,  I  fancy,  you're  all  right. 
Come,  old  man,  say  that  you  are,  for 
I  want  to  do  a  stroke  of  business  with 
you,  and  in  a  hurry  too." 

"What!  and  ain't  I  really  dead?" 
asked  the  old  man  excitedly. 

"No  more  than  I  am." 

"And  you  ain't  dead?" 

"Not  much." 

"Hurrah!  I'm  ready  for  anything 
then.  Want  er  do  a  stroke  o'  busi- 
ness with  me,  eh?  Well,  wait  er 
minute,  an'  I'll  be  with  you,"  and  he 
sprang  out  of  bed  as  buoyantly  as  a 
boy  of  ten. 

"Mercy  me!"  exclaimed  his  wife, 
and  rushed  from  the  room. 

Byington  and  Hans  followed  her, 
and  a  little  later  the  farmer  joined 
them  in  the  dining-room. 

"1  ain't  dead,  that's  a  fact,"  said 
the  old  man,  looking  around  him; 
"but  I  don't  understand  it  .yet." 

"Well,  it  will  all  come  back  to  you 
by-and-bye,"  said  the  correspondent. 
"And  now  let's  talk.  You've  got  a 
good  horse  in  your  stable,  eh?" 

"  Why — yes— purty  good. " 

"You  bought  him  of  a  Union  of- 
ficer?" 

"Ye — yes." 

"W^ell,  mine's  a  little  lame.  Gome 
and  look  at  him.  The  army  is  just 
moving  South  and  I  must  be  well 


mounted.  If  you're  a  mind  to  make 
a  trade,  I'll  give  you  a  hundred  dol- 
lars to  boot.  Come,  now,  let's  make 
quick  work  of  it,  for  I  must  get  off 
my  dispatch  about  the  capture  of 
Lee,  and  then  join  Meade  or  Slocum, 
wherever  they  may  happen  to  be." 

"All  right,  mister,  I'll  look  at  your 
horse,"  and  being  now  thoroughly 
convinced  that  he  was  still  in  the 
land  of  the  living,  the  farmer  became 
more  worldly-minded  than  ever. 

He  sold  the  correspondent  a  horse 
he  had  never  owned,  stabled  the  one 
he  took  in  exchange,  and  i^ut  one 
hundred  and  ten  dollars  in  green- 
backs in  his  pocket,  and  then  he  re- 
turned to  his  house  feeling  that  he 
had  done  a  very  smart  thing.  So 
there,  for  the  present,  we  will  leave 
him. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FEOM   GETTYSBURG   TO  THE   TENNES- 
SEE. 

Unfortunately  for  the  the  Union 
cause.  General  Meade  did  not  seem 
to  comprehend  the  great  advantage 
he  had  won.  Two  days  after  the 
battle  he  carefully  jinsbed  the  Sixth 
corps  toward  til e  enemy ;  taking  his 
other  corps  by  different  roads  and 
advancing  as  rapidly  as  Lee  moved 
on  and  got  out  of  the  way. 

The  general  course  was  toward 
Frederick,  which  was  reach  the 
second  day  out. 

The  Seventeenth  pressed  forward 
with  the  Eleventh  corps  to  Hagers- 
town,whicIi  it  occupied  on  the  twelfth 
of  July,  capturing  one  hundred  and 
twenty-tive  prisoners.  The  Fifth 
and  Twentieth  overtook  the  enem:^ 
intrenched  at  Fair  Play  on  the  twelfth 
and  were  ordered  to  take  position 
and  throw  uj)  earthworks. 

Next  night  the  main  rebel  army 
escaped  across  the  Potomac.  TJie 
retreat  and  pursuit  were  continued, 
without  much  in  the  way  of  interest, 
until  Lee's  army  occu])ied  the  south 
side  of  the  Kapidan,  near  Orange 
Court  House. 

The  Twelfth  corps  went  into  camp 
near  Raccoon  Ford.  Ross,  the  colonel 
of  the  Twentieth,  now  had  command 
of  the  brigade. 

On  the  twenty-fourth  of  September 
the  Twelfth  corps  was  relieved  and 
marched  back  to  Brandy  Station ;  and 
all  property  was  turned  over  to  the 
post  quartermaster. 

The  march  was  resumed  toBealton 
Station,  where  to  the  surprise  of  all, 
the  corps  was  embarked  on  board  the 
cars  to  reenforce  the  Army  of  the 
Cumberland  in  Tennessee. 

This  was  to  meet  Longstreet's 
army,  already  thrown  into  the  west- 
ern scale  in  aid  of  Bragg. 

Rosecrans  had  been  pushed  into 
the  fortifications  around  Chattanoo- 
ga; and  Bragg  was  investing  the 
place,  while  ojjerating  on  the  Union 
communications  with  strong  detach- 
ments.    The  enemy  occupied  Look- 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


17 


out  Mountain,  and  the  railroad  and 
jiver  back  to  Bridgeport,  Alabama. 
The  Union  army  was  on  half-rations. 
Every  day  their  provision-trains 
were  attacked  and  wagons  cap- 
tured. 

The  twelfth  corps  travelled  night 
ind  day  from  Virginia  westward. 
The  twentieth  regiment,  in  which  we 
are  particularly  interested,  was  stow- 
ed away  iu  freight-cars.  Dispatch 
was  indispensable.  Comfort  could 
not  be  considered. 

The  commissary  had  preceded;  and 
at  regular  intervals  the  train  stopped 
for  sandwiches  and  coffee  for  the 
soldiers. 

All  through  Ohio  and  Indiana  the 
troops  were  greeted  with  an  ovation. 
Thousands  turned  out  at  every  stop- 
pingplace;  and  ladies  brought  to  the 
veterans  bouquets  and  wreaths  of 
flowers.  Haversacks  were  seized, 
and  filled  with  fruit,  cake,  baked 
meat-pies  ;  and  the  pork  and  hard- 
tack came  to  be  despised. 

From  Louisville  they  went  on  to 
N"ashville,  thence  to  Murfreesbor- 
.9ugh  and  to  Fullahoma. 

The  rebel  guerrillas  infested  the 
whole  country;  and  they  now  cut  the 
railway  immediately  in  the  rear  of 
the  reenforcements. 

A  division  of  the  Twelfth  corps 
was  ordered  to  defend  the  track 
from  Bridgeport  back  toward  Nash- 
ville; and  the  guerrillas  became,  for 
a  time,  somewhat  more  timid,  and 
their  raids  less  frequent. 

The  Twentieth  regiment  went 
through  Tennessee  to  Stephenson, 
Alabama,  where  they  arrived  on  tlie 
fourth  of  October.  Here  the  Twelfth 
corx)s  had  its  headquarters,  and  was 
occupied  in  guarding  the  lines  of 
communication  for  the  army  at  Chat- 
tanooga. A  few  weeks  later  tlie 
Twentieth  Regiment  went  to  Cowan, 


Grant  wos  now  in  command,  and 
tad  an  army  of  one  hundred  thousand 
veterans  in  and  around  Chattanooga. 
During  the  succeeding  weeks,  he 
moved  on  Lookout  Mountain  and 
Mission  Kidge;  defeated  the  rebel 
army  with  frightful  slaughter;  cap- 
tured six  thousand  prisoners,  seven 
thousand  stand  of  arms,  and  scores 
of  cannon,  and  pursued  the  shattered 
hosts  of  Bragg  as  far  as  Dalton. 

The  Twentieth  regiment  was  still 
guarding  the  lines  of  communication 
at  Cowan.  The  duties  of  the  regi- 
ment were  extremely  arduous;  and 
they  suffered  every  few  days  from 
guerrilla  raids.  Oiue  company,  sta- 
tioned at  Tracy  City,  ivas  surprised 
by  a  band  of  more  than  one  hundred 
and  fifty  land  pirates,  who  dashed 
into  their  lines,  and  attempted  to 
capture  or  murder  the  boys. 

One  brave  fellow,  a  guard,  was 
shot  dead  from  the  first  fire.  Cap- 
tain Upson,  commander  of  the  post, 
was  murdered  in  cold  blood.  While 
he  was  trying  to  join  his  company, 
only  a  few  rods  distant,  he  was  shot 
twice  through  his  body  after  his  sur- 


render, and  he  soon  after  died  from 
the  effects  of  his  wounds. 

A  part  of  this  same  band  of  guer- 
rillas attacked  a  freight  -  train  of 
eleven  cars,  at  some  distance  from 
Cowan,  A  rail  had  cautiously  been 
displaced  from  the  track,  which 
threw  off  the  train  with  a  terrible 
crash. 

Instantly  a  gang  of  rebels  jumped 
from  behind  trees  and  ledges,  and 
commenced  the  work  of  bloodshed 
and  plunder  upon  the  passengers; 
simultanously  firing  the  train,  which 
was  loaded  with  haj-,  lumber,  and 
the  like. 

Captain  Ellsworth,  who  at  the 
time  acting  as  brigade-inspector,  and 
who  sometimes  was  unlucky  and 
then  again  lucky,  happened  unfor- 
tunately to  be  on  board. 

Thiee  brave  soldiers  were  shot 
down  by  his  side;  and  a  musket  was 
leveled  and  fired  at  him,  which 
missed  its  mark,  just  grazing  his 
neck. 

Ellsworth,  iu  compai^y  with  two 
lieutenants  and  three  negroes,  brake- 
men  on  the  train,  was  then  taken  un- 
der guard,  and  run  off'  three  miles 
or  more  into  a  dense  woods.  The 
poor  negroes  were  shot;  Ellsworth 
expected  the  same  fate;  but  was 
finally  simply  robbed  of  his  watch, 
about  four  hundred  dollars  in  money, 
his  coat,  hat,  boots;  and  then  asked 
to  sign  a  parole. 

He  flatly  refused;  and.  after  strip- 
ping the  two  lieutenants,  who  were 
with  him,  of  all  they  had,  they  were 
then  left  by  the  cutthroats  to  grope 
their  way  back  through  the  woods 
barefooted,  which  they  did,  guided 
by  the  liglit  of  the  burning  cars. 

Captain  Ellsworth  was  not  in  the 
best  of  humor  when  he  got  back  to 
his  regiment,  and  he  lost  no  time  in 
laying  the  matter  before  the  lieu- 
tenant-colonel commanding. 

The  officers  were  called  together, 
as  a  sort  of  committee  of  war,  and  it 
was  unanimously  determined,  that 
the  land  pirates  must  be  extermin- 
ated. 

But  how  should  they  go  at  it? 
only  a  small  portion  of  the  regiment 
could  be  spared  to  follow  them  up, 
the  rest  were  absolutely  needed  for 
guard  duty  along  the  road. 

While  they  were  still  deliberating, 
Major  Andley  Peale,  of  the  Tennes- 
see Union  cavalry,   was  announced. 

He  listened  attentively  to  what 
was  being  said,  and  at  last  asked 
permission  to  say  a  word  himself. 

Permission  was  promptly  granted. 

"I  imderstand,"  said  the  Major, 
"that  quite  a  number  of  Kentucky 
horses  were  captured  by  your  men 
the  other  day.  How  many  of  them 
were  there?" 

"Between  fifty  and  sixty,"  said 
the  Lieutenant-Colonel. 

"Ah!  then  let  me  have  between 
fifty  and  sixty  of  your  best  men, who 
can  keep  the  saddle  when  on  horse- 
back, and  I'll  soon  settle  this  busi- 
ness for  you." 


"By  Jove!"  laughed  the  Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel, "I  don't  know  as  we've 
got  that  number  of  horsemen  in  the 
whole  regiment.  Connecticut  is 
hardly  big  enough,  you  know,  to 
practice  horsemanship  in  to  advan- 
tage" 

"I'll  guarantee  to  furnish  the 
men,"  exclaimed  Captain  Ellsworth, 
quickly,  "if  I  -may  be  allowed  to  ac- 
company them." 

"It  s  a  bargain,"  said  the  lieuten- 
ant-colonel, i>romptly;  "and  now  you 
and  Major  Peale  go  "off  and  settle  all 
the  details  of  the  expedition  between 
you." 

"You  turn  the  capable  horses  over 
to  lis,  of  course,"  said  Peale. 

"Certainly." 

"Come,  then.  Captain."  And  the 
two  went  out  together. 

Less  than  an  hour  later  Eandal 
Ellsworth,  at  the  head  of  nearly  his 
whole  command,  rode  out  of  Cowan, 
in  company  with  Audley  Peale,  and 
his  Union  cavalry,  and  that  night 
they  bivouacked  on  the  banks  of  a 
swiftly  flowing  stream,  near  the  out- 
skirts of  a  pretty  village,  and  many 
miles  from  headquarters. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

EDNA    STANWOOD   DEFENDS   HEE 
HOME. 

About  two  miles  from  the  bivouac, 
and  south  ol  the  village,  standing  on 
a  slight  eminence,  which  overlooked 
the  broad  acres  of  one  of  the  best 
plantfitions  in  East  Tennessee,  stood 
a  stately  mansion,  which  for  more 
than  sixty  years  had  been  the  abode 
of  one  of  the  proudest  families  in  all 
the  land. 

An  unnatural  silence  reigned 
about  the  i)lace,  no  one  could  be 
seen  in  the  grounds,  no  lights  ap- 
lieared  in  the  windov.'s,  and  even  the 
negro  quarters  seemed  deserted. 

All  at  once,  a  steady,  growing 
sound  was  head  iu  the  distance, 
which  soon  resolved  itself  into  the 
measured  hoof-strokes  of  a  number 
of  well-trained  horses;  and  soon  a 
squad  of  mounted  men  api)eared, 
who,  on  coming  in  sight  of  the  man- 
sion, halted,  and  held  a  brief  consul- 
tation. 

"Now,  then,  Bolton,"  said  the 
leader  of  the  party,  "you're  quite 
sure  of  what  you  say;  the  general 
left  those  papers  with  his  wife,  did 
he?" 

"Yes,  Colonel,  either  with  his  wife 
or  Miss  Edna,  I  won't  be  certain 
which;  but  I'd  think  it  more  likely 
the  latter,  for  she's  got  more  grit  and 
determination  about  her  than  her 
mother.  If  she  wasn't  a  woman, 
she'd  bo  her  father  right  over 
again." 

"O,  bother  her  and  her  father 
too,"  growled  one  of  the  number, 
"what  we  want  to  know  about  is  the 
papers;  eh.  Colonel?" 

"To  be  sure,"  acquiesced  the  col- 
onol;    "still,  I  must  say  Bolton  is 


18 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY, 


right  about  tlie  girl.  Ediua  Stan- 
■VFOod  is  a  youug  lady  of  very  decided 
character,  and  she  comes  of  mighty 
good  stock,  too." 

"Slie's  a  regular  she  devil," 
growled  the  man  who  had  before 
spokeu. 

"Come,  come,  Captain,  not  quite 
so  bad  as  that.  I  fear  you  have  a 
particular  grudge  against  her  aud 
her  family." 

"So  I  have;  and  against  every  oth- 
er Union  family  in  East  Tennes- 
see." 

"Humph!  is  that  all?  Then  you 
haven't  so  much  cause  for  grievance 
as  I  have  myself." 

"Ah!  I  remember,"  said  the  ';ap- 
taiu  before  he  thought,  "she  reject- 
ed vou  too." 

"Oho!  then  she  did  re^]ect  you,  my 
dear  captain?  In  truth,  I  always 
thought  so." 

Captain  Jillson  bit  his  lip  with 
vexation,  but  presently  blurted  out: 
"Yes,  Colonel  Hicks,  she  did  re- 
ject me ;  and  at  the  time  I  swore  the 
day  should  come  when  she  should 
repent  it — when  Id  be  even  with  her 
and  all  her  race.  You  may  judge, 
then,  with  what  delight  I  heard,  af- 
ter the  South  had  taken  up  arms, 
that  St.  Clair  Stanwood  had  boldly 
announced  himself  as  an  uncom- 
promising Union  man,  and  had  ac- 
cepted a  commission  in  the  Union 
army.  Then  it  was  that  I  resolved 
to  take  an  active  part  in  the  war  on 
the  side  of  the  South;  and  in  order 
not  to  be  drawn  too  far  away  from 
my  main  object,  I  joined  your  inde- 
pendent force.  Colonel." 

"I  see.  Well,  I've  no  great  cause 
to  love  the  Stanwoods  myself,  aud 
with  such  a  good  hater  as  you  by  my 
side,  Abner,  we  ought  to  be  able  to 
accomplish  something  to-night." 

"If  we  get  hold  of  those  papees  we 
shall  accomplish  something." 

"  Ah !  but  suppose  the  girl  refuses 
to  give  them  up,  or  to  tell  where 
they  are?" 

"TLeu  force  her,"  hissed  Jillson, 
between  his  set  teeth . 

"But  suppose  she  still  refuses,  in 
spite  of  all  I  can  do?" 

"Then  turn  her  over  to  me,  and 
threaten  to  burn  down  the  house." 

"That  would  be  pretty  tough, 
wouldn't  it?  I  hear  Mrs.  Stanwood 
is  quite  an  invalid,  and  Flora  Pen- 
rose, her  niece,  as  kind  and  inoffen- 
sive a  girl  as  ever  lived,  is  staying 
there  with  her." 

"That  can't  be  helped,  we  must 
have  those  papers,  at  whatever  cost. 
You  know  as  well  as  I,  Colonel,  the 
possession  of  them  would  set  us  up 
for  life." 

"That's  so,"  muttered  tlie  Colonel, 
thoughtfully — "Well,  ci.i-i  ■  on,  we 
must  try  for  them,  any  way.  Bolton, 
is  there  many  niggers  about  the 
place?" 

"Very  few,  colonel,  not  more  than 

twenty-tive  or  thirty  in  all,  and  most 

of  'era  mind  there  own  business  too." 

"All  right,  tliafs  the  safest  plan 


for  them.  Come  on,  let's  make 
straight  for  the  front  door,  and  so 
get  inside  before  they  have  time  to 
fasten  it.     Forward!" 

The  little  party  moved  on,  rode 
through  the  open  gateway,  and 
pushed  forward  to  the  broad  veranda 
which  ran  across  the  whole  front  of 
the  mansion. 

"Dismount!"  was  the  Colonel's 
brief  order,  aud  springing  from  his 
own  horse,  he  made  a  rush  toward 
the  open  door. 

"Back!  not  another  step  forward 
or  I  lire!"  and  a  fair  youug  girl,  of 
not  more  than  nineteen  summers, 
suddenly  a])peared  in  tiie  doorway, 

Taken  (■(iinpretcly  hy  surprise,  the 
colonel  at  tiist  retreated  down  the 
steps;  but  quickly  recovering  him- 
self, aud  supported  by  his  dozen  fol- 
lowers, he  again  advanced  toward 
the  door. 

"Back,  I  say!"  came  in  firm  deter- 
mined tones  from  the  lady's  lips, 
"not  one  of  you  can  enter  here,  1 
know  you  all  for  a  baud  of  heartless 
outlaws,  and  while  I  live  you  shall 
never  cross  the  threshold  of  my 
father's  house." 

"Out  of  the  way,  Edna  Stanwood!" 
said  Abner  Jillson,  in  a  brutal  poice, 
"We  have  not  come  hear  this  night 
to  be  balked  in  our  purpose  by  a 
woman,  out  of  the  way,  I  say,  or  it 
may  be  the  worse  for  you." 

"No  sir!  I  move  not  from  where  I 
stand  uutil  you  have  left  this  place," 
was  the  brave  reply. 

"One  momeui,"  said  Colonel  Hicks, 
in  a  somewhat  ediiciliatiny  tone,  "it 
may  be  that  this  matter  can  be  com- 
promised. We  have  come  for  a  cer- 
tain package  of  papers,  which,  as  we 
happen  to  know,  your  father  left, 
some  days  since,  either  in  your  own, 
or  your  mother's  hands,  for  safe  keep- 
ing." 

"You  happen  to  know!  sneered 
Edna,  "I  see  Austin  Bolton  among 
you,  and  understand  very  well  how 
you  'happen  to  know'  that  my  dear 
and  brave  father,  when  he  visited  us 
the  other  day,  left  certain  papers  be- 
hind him." 

"Ah!  he  did  leave  them  then;"  ex- 
claimed Hicks  quickly.  "Well,  de- 
liver up  those  iiapers  to  us,  aud  we 
will  go  away  at  once,  and  make  you 
no  further  trouble." 

"Those  papers  are  no  longer  in  this 
house,"  said  Edna  firmly. 

"What!  no  longer  here  ?  I  don't  be- 
lieve you." 

"Of  course  she  lies,"  growled  Jill- 
son, casting  a  look  of  deep  and  bitter 
hatred  on  the  girl. 

"It  makes  not  the  slightest  differ- 
ence to  me  what  you  say  or  think," 
she  said  calmly,  "the  papers  are  not 
here.  Do  you  for  a  moment  suppose, 
after  learning  that  Austin  Bolton  had 
been  seen  sneaking  about  our  draw- 
ing room,  while  my  father  was  talking 
to  my  mother  and  myself  in  the  libra- 
ry adjoining,  that  I  would  keej)  the 
papers  in  the  house  anotlier  hour  ?" 


Lester  Hicks,  I  knew  his  connection 
with  you,  and  that  bad  man  by  your 
side,  and  therefore  understood  only 
too  well  how  dangerous  it  would  be." 
"Huni,"  said  the  colonel,  after  a 
moments'  consideration,  "then  you 
will  give  us  no  information  about  the 
package  ?" 

"I  will  not,"  was  the  decided  re- 
ply- 

"Then  you  must  stand  out  of  the 
way,  for  I  propose  to  question  your 
mother." 

"You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind, 
sir,  my  mother  is  confined  to  her 
room,  where  my  cousin  is  attending 
her,  and  she  cannot  be  disturbed,  it 
would  be  dangerous  to  her  health, 
which,  I  frankly  tell  you,  is  very  pre- 
carious." 

"Oh,  come,  hain't  we  heard  about 
enough  of  this  chin  music?"  asked 
Jillson  impatiently,  "What  are  we 
standing  here  for,  any  way?  Shall  we 
let  one  weak  girl  keep  a  dozen  of  us 
strong  men  in  awe?" 

"I  wouldn't  advise  one  of  the  dozen 
strong  men  to  attempt  to  interfere 
with  the  weak  girl,"  said  Edna 
quietly. 

At  this  moment  one  of  the  men 
whispered  to  Jillson,  and  as  Edna 
saw,  directed  his  attention  to  one  of 
the  windows  opening  on  the  veranda, 
and  which  was  partially  raised. 

"Yes,"  exclaimed  the  captain 
eagerly,  "do  it,  then  we  shall  have 
her  sure;  for  she  can't  defend  her- 
self both  in  front  and  rear  at  the  same 
time." 

The  girlp'  sharp  ear  caught  every 
word  of  this,  and  fully  comprehending 
its  meaning,  her  resolution  was  at 
once  taken. 

The  man  who  had  whispered  to 
Jillson  watched  her  closely  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  when  he  thought  her  at- 
tention was  directed  another  way, 
sprang  suddenly  forward,  and  made 
a  leai)  at  the  partially  open  win- 
dow. 

He  caught  the  upraised  sash  in  his 
left  hand,  aud  his  knee  rested  on  the 
window-sill.    He  was  about  to  lift 
the  other  leg  over  the  stll.  when — 
Crack! 

A  bullet  pierced  his  temple,  and 
without  uttering  the  slightest  sound, 
he  fell  backward  upon  the  floor  of 
the  veranda— dead. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  QUKRU.LA8  DISCOMFITED. 

For  one  single  moment  tbe  other  partisans 
were  too  thoroughly  confounded  to  speak  or 
act,  then  a  cry  of' rage  went  up,  and  each 
called  upon  the  other  to  shoot  down  ths  gal 
in  her  tracks, 

"  I  gave  you  all  fair  warning,  she  said 
coolly.  "  He  knew  the  risk  he  ran,  and  has 
only  paid  the  just  penalty.  He  knew  he  had 
no  right  to  invade  this  house,  and  I  know, 
and  you  know  that  I  have  a  perfect  right  to 
defend  it,  and  what's  more,  2  will  too.     So  be- 

,vare every  one  of   you — how  you  provoke 

me  to  pull  the  trigger  again,— 

"  Hold,  there!  You,  sir,  you  need  not  try 
to  sneak  away.  I  underscand  your  purpose, 
you  would  attempt  to  get  around  to  the  back 
of  the  house;  but  it  won't  do,  the  first  man 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


19 


who  undertakes  to  lenVH  tlie  gnmnds  in  front 
here,  dies,— ay,  aud  iht;  tirsl  who  attempts  to 
draw  a  weapon  tool  " 

While  Edna  was  speaking  she  kept  her 
eyes  fixed  on  the  group  directly  in  trout  of 
her,  and  particularly  on  one  man  who  ap- 
peared to  be  edging  ofi  toward  the  corner  of 
the  house,  and  another,  wliose  hand  was  ner- 
vously groping  for  the  handle  of  his  revolver. 

Htr  attention  being  thus  engaged,  she  did 
not  see  that  Abner  Jillson  had  gained  a  foot- 
ing on  the  veranda,  aud  was  slowly  and  cau- 
tiously approaching  her  from  one  side. 

All  at  once  he  sprang  toward  her,  and  strik- 
ing her  wrist  a  sudden  blow,  the  revolver 
dropped  from  her  hand,  then,  with  a  mock- 
ing laugh,  he  tried  to  seize  her  about  the 
waist  and  drag  her  from  the  doorway. 

She  uttered  a  slight  scream,  and  quickly 
freeing  herself,  started  back  a  step  or  two, 
then,  as  Jillson  attempted  to  follow  and  seize 
her  again,  she  plucked  a  dagger  from  her 
bosom,  and  aimed  a  blow  at  his  breast. 

He  quickly  raised  his  arm  to  defend  him- 
aelf,  and  the  keen  blade  was  buried  in  his 
tiesh. 

He  uttered  a  sharp  cry  of  rage,  and  fell 
back  a  step  or  two  toward  the  edge  of  the  ve- 
randa. One  of  the  men,  a  friend,  both  of  the 
ciptaiuand  of  him  who  had  been  killed,  now 
drew  a  bowie,  and  with  ahorrible  oath,  sprang 
toward  the  beautiful  girl. 

The  gleaming  knife  was  upraised,  in  an- 
other moment  it  would  descend  and  be  buried 
iu  her  fair  bosom. 

Crack! 

It  fell;  but  it  was  not  sheathed  in  the 
ma:deu's  heart.  It  went  ringing  to  the  ve- 
raiida  floor,  and  he  who  had  dropped  it,  him- 
self fell  prone  at  the  brave  girl's  feet. 

Had  a  shell  suddenly  burst  among  them,  it 
could  not  have  created  greater  consternation. 

All,  with  one  accord,  turned  in  the  direction 
from  whence  the  unexpected  shot  had  come, 
and  there,  close  to  the  last  pillow  of  the  ve- 
randa, they  beheld  a  noble-looking  Federal 
officer,  of  perhaps  twenty-six  or  seven  years, 
holding  in  each  hand  a  heavy  revolver,  and 
they  at  ouce  uader:itood  that  he  also  held  their 
lives  in  his  hands. 

For  aim  ist  a  minute  not  a  won^  was  ut- 
tered by  any«jne,  then,  slowly  the  Federal  ap- 
proached the  group,  his  eyes  never  leaving  it 
for  au  instant,  his  revolvers  always  presented. 

"  Well,  I  must  say,"  he  began,  as  he  drew 
nearer,  "  this  is  tlie  queerest  sort  of  a  fight  I 
ever  had  the  fortune  to  witness  -a  dozen  strong 
men  against  one  weak  woman!  I've  heard  a 
great  deal  about  Southern  chivalry  in  my  time 
— a  great  deal  too  much;  but  I  never  saw  such 
a  practical  illustration  of  it  as  I  witness  at  this 
moment.  But  say,  ain't  it  about  time  this 
farce  was  played  out?  Let's  see  how  many 
there  are  of  you — ten,  and  the  wounded  captain 
there  is  eleven,  then  there  were  thirteen  in  all; 
but  dead  men  don't  count.  Now  then,  let's 
see  what  we  shall  do  with  you,  and  in  the  first 
place,  gentlemen,  I  will  thank  you  for  any 
little  present  in  the  way  of  barkers  and  tooth- 
picks. You  may  just  throw  them  down  here 
ou  the  veranda  at  my  feet.  No  doubt  you 
will  accept  this  invitation  with  alacrity  and 
enthusiasm." 

"  But  suppose  we  won't  accept  it  at  all,  what 
then?"  growled  Jillson. 

The  young  officer  did  not  answer  in  word's, 
he  dimply  tapped  tlie  revolver  iu  his  right  hand 
with  li  s  forednger.  But  the  action  was  so 
peculiarly  suggestive  that  words  were  not 
needed  to  complete  his  meaning.  And  with 
another  growl  the  nearest  man  threw  down  his 
weapons. 

"Hallo!"  exclaimed  the  next  man,  as  he 
cast  a  bowie  ou  the  veranda.  '  I've  seen  this 
fellow  before.  By  the  Lord  Harry!  he's  the 
same  Yank  we  captured  on  the  train  last  night 
— he  is,  for  a  thousand! " 

"  Thunder!  so  he  is,"  muttered  half  a  dozen. 
"  Exactly,"  smiled  Kandal  Ellsworth,  "aud 
now,  as  you  see,  the  table  is  turned,  and  as  1 
have  soiiie  four  hundred  dollars  in  greenbacks 
to  collect  from  you,  besides  a  first-rate  pair  of 
boots  and  many  other  articles  of  weariug  ap- 
parel, to  say  nothing  of  much  valuable  per- 
sonal property,  I  siiall  stay  with  you  till  the 


debt  is  canceled.  You  may  make  your  minds 
perfectly  easy  on  that  scoie." 

"  What  thundering  fools  we  were  not  to 
treat  y(m  as  we  did  the  niggers  last  night," 
said  Jillson  regretfully. 

"  1  don't  know  as  to  that,"  said  Randal,  in  a 
careless  tone;  "  but  if  you  don't  hurry  u,^  with 
your  offerings  I  know  how  some  of  you  will 
get  treated,  and  in  mighty  short  order  too." 

By  this  time  about  half  the  men  had  thrown 
down  their  arms,  and  others  were  advancing, 
when  Jilison  hurriedly  said  something  to 
Hicks,  who  nodded  hastily,  and  drawing  his 
revolver  aud  addressing  Ellsworth,  said: 

•'  You  want  my  arms,  do  you,  captain  ? 
Well,  you  can't  have  'em;  but  you  can  take 
the  contents  of  this,"  and  he  pulled  the  trig 
ger. 

If  Bandal  Ellsworth  had  not  been  expect- 
ing something  of  the  kind,  or  if  the  game  had 
been  tried  in  the  first  place,  when  all  were 
armed,  it  might  have  proved  fatal.  But  as 
it  was,  the  Yankee  captain  was  prepared  for 
treachery,  and  as  half  the  men  had  already 
thrown  down  their  arms,  he  had  only  the 
other  half  to  look  after,  aud  this  he  was  able 
to  do. 

He  saw  Jillson  whisper  to  the  colonel.  He 
saw  the  colonel's  assenting  nod,  and  readily 
understood  its  meaning,  So  the  instant  be- 
fore the  rebel  chief  pressed  the  trigger,  he 
slightlv  changed  his  position,  aud  at  the  same 
time,  fired. 

The  colonel's  ballet  buried  itself  in  the 
clapboarding  behind  the  Yankee  captain, 
while  the  latter's  ball  struck  the  colonel's 
right  hand,  carrying  away  a  finger,  and  caus- 
ing him  to  drop  his  revolver.  At  the  same 
time,  Jillson  cried  out: 

"  Now's  our  time,  boys!  Down  with  the 
cursed  Yankee!     Kill  him  in  bis  tracks!" 

Those  who  had  not  surrendered  their  wea- 
pons prepared  to  use  them  while  those  who 
had,  sprang  forward  to  recover  them. 

"Back,  fools!"  hi.ssed  Ellsworth,  "yon 
come  only  to  your  death,"  and  he  gave  a  pe- 
culiar whistle. 

Before  the  echo  had  died  away,  two  pistol 
shots  rang  out. 

Crack!  crack! 

And  two  of  the  foremost  of  the  guerillas 
fell,  and  the  others,  feeling  sure  that  a  large 
force  was  coming  to  the  assistance  of  the  Yau 
kee  officer,  turned  to  fly. 

And  now,  for  the  first  time,  they  saw  hat 
their  horses,  which  they  had  left  only  a  short 
distance  from  the  veranda,  were  gone. 

"  It's  of  no  use,  my  rebel  friends,"  said 
Ellsworth  quietly,  "  the  game  is  incur  hands, 
and  ycu  may  as  well  submit  without  making 
any  fuss  about  it.  It's  either  that,  or  the 
other  thing — take  your  choice.  It  makes 
very  liitle  difference  to  me." 

"  What  do  you  requiieof  us?"  demanded 
Hicks  sullenly. 

'•  Your  unconditional  surrender,"  was  the 
firm  reply. 

"And  what  then?" 

"  Thai's  nothing  to  do  with  the  que.otion 
now.  You  must  surrender  first,  what  shall 
be  done  with  you  afterwards,  can  be  tettled 
in  the  future." 

"  Well,  we  submit." 

"  Very  wise,  I'll  call  up  a  couple  of  my  men 
to  receive  such  weapons  as  may  still  be  lin- 
gering aljout  your  clothes,  I  can't  tru^t  you  to 
give  them  up  yourselves — Timl — Tony!' 
And  immediately  Tim  Cooney  and  Tony  Tib- 
bits  presented  themselves. 

' '  Disarm  these  men ,"  said  the  captain .  "I'll 
see  to  it  that  they  make  you  no  trouble. " 

"  Throuble,  is  it!"  exclaimed  Tim,  scorn- 
fully, "  Oi'd  jist  loike  ter  see  ther  loikes  uv 
thim  a-makin' me  throuble.  Now  howld  still, 
will  yez,  till  I  go  through  yer  pockets." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


The  eleven  deeply  chagrined  guerrillas 
quietly  submitted  to  the  close  inspection  insti- 
tuted by  Tim  and  Tony,  and  when  it  was  con- 
cluded quite  a  pile  of  deadly  weapons  lay  up 


on  the  veianda,  almost  enough,  in  fact,  to  set 
up  a  young  arsenal. 

"Now,  then,"  said  the  captain,  "they  must 
be  securely  bound.      See  to  it,  will  you,  Tim?" 

"  Oh,  murther  I"  exclaimed  Tim,  "  divil  a 
bit  av  rope  have  oi  to  tie  thim  with,  barrin' 
me  bridle,  an'  that  ain't  rope  at  all." 

"  Y'ou  want  cords,  I  suppose,  to  secure  your 
prisoners?"  said  Edna,  now  speaking  for  the 
first  time  since  Randal  Ellsworth's  well  direct- 
ed shot  had  saved  her  life. 

"Yes,  miss,  and  good  stout  ones  too,"  an- 
swered Randal,  raising  his  cap. 

"  I  will  get  them  for  you." 

"Tony,  go  with  her;  you  may  be  of  some 
assistance." 

The  young  lady  had  already  turned,  and  so 
did  not  hear  this  order,  therefore  she  was  not 
aware  that  she  was  being  accompanied. 

As  she  was  pa.ssing  the  broad  staircase 
which  led  up  to  the  second  story,  a  feeble  and 
anxious  voice  came  floating  down  ^o  her: 

"Edna,  Edna,  my  daughter,  what  is  the 
matter?  Has  anything  happened  to  you  ?  Are 
you  quite  safe?  Child!  child!  where  are  you  ? 
Flora,  do  go  to  her." 

"Yes,  aunty,  if  you  wish  it,"  responded 
the  sweetest  voice  ever  heard  by  mortal  ear; 
"  but  you  know  she  made  me  promise  not  to 
leave  you  for  a  single  moment  on  any  accoiint, 
unless  she  called  me  herself." 

"  I  know,  1  know;  but  I  am  sure  something 
must  have  happened  to  her,  or  the  would 
have  come  to  reassure  me.  You  heard  those 
firearms  yourself.  I  tell  you  I  can't  stand 
this  terrible  suspense." 

On  hearing  this,  Edna  fairly  flew  up  the 
staircase,  aud  Tony,  as  iu  duty  bound,  follow- 
ed her. 

She  threw  open  the  door  of  her  mother's 
room,  and  without  pausing  to  shut  it,  rushed 
to  the  invalid's  side,  and  throwing  her  arms 
about  her  neck,  exclaimed: 

"  Here  I  am,  darling  mother,  and  safe  and 
sound,  as  you  see." 

Her  mother  folded  her  in  a  fond  and  silent 
embrace,  and  then  holding  her  away  from  her 
gazed  long  and  tenderly  into  her  fare. 

Presently,  with  a  loving  kiss.  Edna  started 
to  her  feet.  As  she  did  s-o,  Mrs.  Stanwood 
caught  sight  of  the  young  drummer  boy,  who 


:ig  m 


middle  of  the  room, 
tha 


Good    heavens!"     she    exclaimed, 
face!  that  face!     Who  is  he,  child?" 

Wonderiugly  Edna  turned,  and  caught  sight 
of  Tony. 

"Why,  boy,  how  came  you  here?"  she 
asked  in  astonishment. 

■■Captain  Ellsworth  sent  me,"  he  replied. 
"  He  said  I  might  be  of  some  assistance  to 
you." 

"Ah,  his  name  is  Ellsworth,  then,"  she 
murmured.  "  Well,  I  must  not  forget  my  er- 
rand.    I  will  find  the  cord  for  you  at  once." 

"  But  who  is  he?  who  is  he?"  persisted  her 
mother,  pointing  to  Tony. 

"Tell  her,"  said  Edna,  addressing  the  boy. 
Then  turning  to  her  mother:  "But  I  don't  see 
why  he  should  so  interest  you?" 

"The  very  image,"  she  murmured,  "the 
very  image."  .Then  aloud; 

"  Who  are  you,  child  ?  " 

"My  name  is  Tony  Tibbits,"  he  replied, 
"  and  I  belong  in  Adams  county,Pennsylvania." 

"  I'ony  Tibbits!  a  most  singular  name,  I 
am  sure." 

"I  should  think  so!"  exclaimed  Edna. 
"Now  who  could  have  the  heart  to  christen 
a  child  Tonv,  I'd  like  to  know." 

"  I  don't  'think  I  was  christened  Tony,"  the 
boy  ventured  to  say.  "  I've  heard  Mr.  Stover 
— that's  the  town  guardian — say  that  my  right 
name  was  Anthony." 

"Anthony!"  mused  Mrs.  Stanwood,  "An- 
thony!" 

"Ah!  that's  somewhat  better,"  said  Edna; 
"  still  there  are  other  names  1  thould  like  quite 
as  well." 

'■  But — Tibbits,"  said  the  elder  lady  sudden- 
ly.    '-Wlio  was  your  father,  child?" 

Tony  blushed, 

"  I — 1 — reallv  ma'am,  I  don't  know." 

•■  Don't  know!     How  can  that  be?" 

A  sad  look  came  into  the  boy's  face  as  h« 


20, 


THE  WAR  LIBRARl?. 


"  I  have  but  a  dim  recollection  of  the  first 
few  years  of  my  life.and  if  I  ever  saw  him,  I  can- 
not recall  my  father's  face.  Of  my  mother  I  am 
sure  I  remember  something — a  beautiful  lady, 
who  dressed  elegantly,  and  looked,  it  seems  to 
me,  like  you,  miss,"— indicating  Edna— "and 
I  am  sure  we  lived  in  a  pleasant  home,  sur- 
rounded by  every  comfort.  Then  comes  a 
blank,  and  my  next  recollection  is  of  the  terri- 
ble life  I  -was  forced  to  lead  at  the  town  farm, 
near  Gettysburg," 

"  The  what,  did  you  say?" 
"Alas,  ma'am,  the  poorbouse." 
"Shocking!"    exclaimed  the   lady.     "But 
you  did  not  stay  there  long,  I  hope?  " 

"Till  I  was  quite  a  well-grown  boy.  then 
Mr.  Gripper  took  me  to  work  on  his  farm  and 
help  about  the  house,  and  1  lived  with  him 
until  the  battle  of  Gettysburg  was  fought, 
when  I  joined  Captain  Ellsworth's  com- 
pany." 

"And  haven't  you  anything  at  all  connected 
with  your  early  life— a  ring— a  locket— any 
trinket  that  might  serve  to  identify  you,  or 
show  who  your  parents  were  ? " 

•'  I  have  a  chain  with  a  peculiar  trinket 
hanging  to  it;  but  it's  in  Tim  Cooney's  knap- 
sack, and  that's  at  our  bivouace,  a  conple  of 
miles  from  here  " 

"Boy,  boy,  you  must  bring  that  chain  and 
trinket.  All  your  future  depends  on  your  do- 
ing so.  I  may  be  able  to  tell  you  who  your 
parents  are.     God  grai.t  I  am  not  mistaken." 

"  Oh,  ma'am,  I  will  surely  bring  them  to 
you  if  the  captain  will  let  me  come." 

"  He  must.  Boy,  do  you  hear  me,  he  must." 
While  Mrs.  Stanwood  was  talking  to  Tony, 
Edna  had  left  the  room.     She  now  returned 
with  a  quantity  of  strong  cord  in  her  hand. 

"  Take  this  to  your  captain,"  she  said,  and 
then,  as  her  cheeks  became  suffused  with 
blushes, — "  and  tell  him — and  tell  him — I 
would  like  to  see  him  for  a  few  moments  be- 
fore ha  goes  away." 

"  Yes,  Miss,  I'll  tell  him,"  and  bowing,  cap 
in  hand,  to  each  of  the  three  ladies,  Tony 
backed  out  of  the  door. 

"And  don't  forget  to  bring  the  chain  and 
trinket,  child,"  called  Mrs.  Stanwood  after 
him,  as  he  disappeared  in  the  hallway. 

"  I'll  not  forget."  And  he  hurried  down 
the  stairs. 

The  prisoners  were  speedily  bound,  and 
then,  after  a  word  of  caution  to  Tim  and  Tony, 
Ellsworth  entered  the  house. 

He  found  Edna  waiting  for  him  in  the  par- 
lor. 

She  arose  as  he  approached,  and  frankly  ex- 
tending her  hand,  said: 

"I  have  to  thank  you,  sir,  for  the  valuable 
assistance  you  rendered  me.  Captain,  you 
saved  my  life." 

"  I  require  no  thanks,  Miss  Stanwood,"  said 
Randal,  earnestly.  "  I  am  proud  indeed  to 
know  that  I  have  been  of  the  slightest  service 
to  you — to  General  Stanwood'sdaughter." 

"You  know  my  father,  then?"  she  asked, 
quickly. 

•'  I  liave  some  acquaintance  with  him;  but 
I  know  him  by  reputation  far  better." 

"  He  is  a  noble  gentleman,  it  he  is  my  fath- 
er and  a  tiue,  disinterested  patriot,"  said 
Edna,  proudly. 

"  He  is  indeed,"  rejoined  Ellsworth,  "and 
is   beloved  by  every  Union  soldier  iu  Tennes- 

ui  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.    And  now 
ask,  what  will  you  do  with  your  pris- 

11  be  done  with  them 
a  them  over  to  the 
B,  who  commands  the 
y  company  forms  a 
What  he  will  do  with  them  I  cannot 


that  the  scoundrels  out  yonder  will  get  any- 
thing like  their  just  deserts." 

"And  yet."  said  she,  "  I  have  heard  that 
Major  Peale  was  not  inclined  to  be  very  ten- 
der hearted  when  guerrillas  fell  into  his  hands. 
Then,  abruptly:  "  Where  did  you  say  your 
camp  was?" 

"About  two  miles  from  here,  on  the  banks 
of  a  beautiful  stream." 

"  Oh!  I  think  I  know.  I  suppose  you  will 
not  remain  there  long?" 

"  Only  until  morning." 

"  What,  will  you  leave  this  neighborhood 
so  soon  ?" 

"We  muoi.  We  started  out  to  search  for 
Hick's  guerrillas,  and  as  we  have  come  across 
the  leader  himself  and  a  dozen  of  his  men,  the 
whole  gang,  I  should  think,  must  be  some- 
where iu  this  neighborhood." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  it,"  she  said;  "but  just 
where  1  cannot  tell." 

"Then,  if  you  too  think  so,  I  ought  to 
hasten  to  camp  at  once,  and  report." 

"  Before  you  leave,  will }  ou  do  me  the  favor 
to  speak  to  my  mother.  '  She  would  like  to 
thank  you  herself  for  the  great  service  you 
have  rendered  us;  and  there  is  another  thing; 
she  would  like  to  ask  you  a  question  or  two 
about  that  really  remarkable  boy  you  have 
with  you,  Tony,  I  think  he  is  called." 

"  Certainly,  I  will  speak  to  your  mother, 
and  be  glad  to  do  so;  but,  as  I  have  already 
told  you,  1  don't  care  to  be  thanked;  and  as 
for  Touy,  I  can  tell  her  very  little  about  him, 
excepting  that  he  is  the  brightest  boy  I  ever 
happened  to  run  across." 

"  Well,  come,  and  tell  her  that." 

"  I  will,  and  if  she  cares  to  hear  a  prediction 
I  will  tell  her  that  if  the  war  only  lasts  a  year 
or  two  longer,  and  he  has  the  good  luck  to  es- 
cape flying  bullets.  I  have  no  hesitation  in 
saying  that  Tony  Tibbits  will  leave  the  army 
a  commissioned  officer. 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    PRISONERS    UNDER  aUAHD. 

As  Edna  and  Captain  Ellsworthentered  Mrs. 

Stanwood's    room,    the    invalid    looked    up 


"If  possible — yes."  .^ 

"Thank  you,  captain,  you  are  very  kind.' 

And  the  invalid  lady  spoke  in  a  weary  tone. 

Ellsworth  took  the  hint  and  arose  to  depart. 
At  that   moment   Flora   Penrose,  who  had 

been  out  of  the  room  when  he  was  introduced. 


entered  it  from  an  inner  apartment.  As  his 
eyes  rested  upon  her  sweet  face,  Randal  Ells- 
worth was  absolutely  startled  by  her  wondrous 
biauty. 

He  was  quietly  introduced,  and  soon  found 
himself   comparing  the   charms   of    the   two 


Edna  was  grand,  queenly,  self-reliant,  and 
her  beauty  was  of  a  dazzling  quality.  Flora 
was  more  subdued,  home  like,  and  her  beanty, 
while  perfect,  was  of  a  less  striking  charac- 
ter. 

Had  he  seen  Flora  first  he  might  have  loved 
her  at  once;  but  as  it  was,  when  he  looked 
upon  Edna's  perfect  features,  flashing  eyes, 
and  commanding  figure,  he  concluded  that, 
after  all,  there  could  be  nothing  half  so  glo- 
rious in  all  the  world  as  thisgrand  and  majes- 
tic woman,  and  mentally,  he  resolved  to  tell 
her  so  some  day. 

Having  bid  'the  ladies  good  night,  he  hur- 
ried down  the  broad  staircase  and  out  upon 
the  veranda,  and  at  once  commanded  Tim  and 
Tony  to  prepare  for  their  return  to  camp. 

"An'  phat  about  thim  thirteen  torses  we 
captured.  Captain,  darlint?"  asked  Tim. 

"Why,"  began  the  captain,  "as  we  are  in 
a  great  hurry— but,  stop!  an  idea  has  occurred 
to  me,"  and  hastily  he  again  entered  the 
house. 

Edna  stood  by  the  window,  in  a  thoughtful 
attitude.  She  raised  her  eyes  as  he  entered 
the  room,  and  a  faint  blush  suffused  her 
cheeks. 

■ '  I  find  myself  in  a  somewhat  embarrassmg 
situation,"  said  Randal,  rapidly,  "and  have 
come  back  to  ask  a  question,  and  beg  a  favor 
at  vour  bauds." 

"Any  question  you  may  see  ht  to  ask,  1 
shall  cheerfully  answer,"  she  rejoined,  "and 
the   favor,  whatever   it  Bay   be,    is   already 


see. 


let  me 
oners?" 

"I  cannot  tell  what 
ultimately.  I  shall  1 
senior  officer,  Majiir  P' 
expedition  of  which 
part.  ""  '  "  ~  " 
say.' 


But  you  have  some  idea?" 

"  Probably  they  will  be  sent  North,  aspris 
nners  of  war." 

■•  Then  I  am  satisfied.  I  should  not  care  to 
tliinkthat  I,  in  a,iywaT,  was  connected  with 
the  death  of  the  most  unworthy  among  them. 
I  have  already  sent  one  man  into  eternity,  and 
I  do  not  wish  to  add  to  the  number" 

"Don't  let  the  thought  trouble  you  in  the 
least   Miss  Stanwood.       It  is  not  at  all  likely 


impatiently. 

"  He  is  out  in  front,  waiting  for  his  com- 
manding oificer,"  said  Edna.  Then  indicating 
EUswortli,  "this,  mother,  is  Captain  Ells- 
worth, the  gentleman  who  saved  my  life  just 
now,  when,  had  it  not  been  for  him,  I  should 
have'  died  at  the  hands  of  Lester  Hick's  guer- 
rillas." 

"Captain,"  said  Mrs.  Stanwood,  extending 
her  hand,  and  speaking  with  great  feeling, 
"  how  can  I  ever  thank  you  ?  You  have  laid 
us  under  a  life  long  obligation.  It  would  have 
killed  the  general,  as  well  as  myself,  had  any- 
thing happened  to  our  child— our  only  child." 
Then  suddenly:  "Is  that  boy — Anthony,  ho 
said  his  name  was,  in  your  company,  captain?" 
"  Yes,  ma'am,  he  is,"  responded  Randal, 
"  and  a  great  favorite  with  us  all." 

"  What  do  you  know  of  him— his  early  life, 
I  mean  ?"  asked  the  lady. 

' '  Very  little,  I  fear,  that  will  interest  you, 
ma'am." 

"Please  permit  me  to  be  the  judge,  captam. 
Tell  me  what  you  do  know." 

Then  Ellsworth  told  how  Tony  had  first 
made  his  appearance  on  the  battle  field  of 
Gettysburg,  and  how  it  had  happened  that  he 
became  a  member  of  his  company.  He  also 
mentioned  his  former  relations  with  Gripper 
the  farmer. 

"And  is  that  all  you  know  about  him? 
asked  Mrs.  Stanwood,  in  a  disappointed  tone, 
when  he  had  finished. 

"  I  regret  to  say  it  is,"  was  the  answer. 
"  He  has  a  fine  gold  chain  with  a  little  trin- 
ket attached.     He  says  it  is  in  tbe  kit  of  one  of 
his  comrades.      Will  you  permit  him  to  bring 
it  to  me  in  the  morning?" 

"  If  such  a  thing  is  possible,  he  shall  do  so. 
If  not  to-morrow,  at  all  events,  I  will  see  that 
the  chain  and  trinket  reach  you  within  a  day 
or  so  at  the  late.-t." 

"Let   him   bring    it    himself,    if   possible, 


granted. 

"Many  thanks.  I  wish,  then,  to  ask  if  you 
have  not  at  least  one  or  two  faithful  negroes 
on  your  place,  and  if  so,  where  they  are,  and 
why  we  have  not  seen  them." 

"  We  have  a  few— a  vey  few  negroes  left,' 
said  Edna,  slowly,  "  most  of  them  have  been 
killed  by  the  lawless  guerrillas.  Still,  there 
are  two  men  who  I  am  sure  would  lay  down 
their  lives  for  any  member  of  my  father's  fam- 
ily." 

"And  where  are  those  two?"  asked  1  an 
dal. 

For  a  moment  Edna  hesitated;  then,  after  a 
glance  through  the  window,  and  into  the  hall- 
way, she  said: 

"  I  sent  them  on  a  secret  mission  early  this 
evening." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Ellsworth,  "and  when 
will  they  return  ?" 

"  I  expect  them  at  any  moment. 
"Good!  Now,  then,  for  my  request.  You 
see,  Miss  Stanwood,  I  started  out  tonight  on 
a  sort  of  a  quixotic  expedition,  and  took  only 
one  man  and  that  boy,  Tony,  with  me.  \\  e 
have  taken  eleven  prisoners,  together  with 
thirteen  horses  and  a  large  number  of  weap- 
ons. It  would  be  somewhat  diflacult,  I  appre 
bend,  for  us  three  to  take  our  prisoners  and 
booty  to  camp  in  safety,  especially  as  we  feel 
pretty  sure  that  the  full  band  to  which  the 
outlaws  belong  is  at  no  great  distance.  1  will, 
then,  with  vour  kind  permission,  leave  the 
prisoners  here,  with  one  of  my  men  and  your 
two  faitnful  negroes  to  guard  them.  ..nd  at 
once  return  to  camp  myself  with  the  boy.  It 
will  not  take  long  to  reach  our  bivouac,  and  1 
shall  speedily  return  with  Major  Peale  and 
our  full  force  to  relieve  you  of  your  unpleas- 
ant visitors."  . 

"A  very  good  plan  indeed.  Captain,  and  the 

only  proper  one  for  you  to  follow,  I  should 

say,"  exclaimed  Edna,  heartily. 

"  You  really  think  so?" 

•'  I  do  indeed.     And  you  have  only  to  wart 

for  the  return  of  EUick  and  Wash  to  carry  it 


Then  I'll  go  and  spealc 


You  can 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


21- 


let  me  know  when  the  two  negroes  you  men- 
tion have  returned." 

The  captain  rejoined  Tim  and  Tony,  and 
having  drawn  them  to  one  side,  hastily  ex- 
plained his  plans. 

Tim,  with  the  freedom  of  his  race,  hastily 
approved,  and  assured  Ellsworth  that  he  could 
safely  leave  the  dhirty  guerrillas  in  his  hands, 
and  that  he  would  see  to  it  that  ther  black 
caygars  didn't  go  ter  slape  on  their  posts  or 
duty. 

While  they  were  yet  talking,  Edna  came 
out  on  the  veranda,  followed  by  two  blacks, 
one  of  them  a  perfect  Hercules  in  stature,  build 
and  str-ugth.     This  was  EUick. 

It  took  but  a  moment  to  inform  them  of  the 
situation,  and  having  seen  the  prisoners  placed 
in  an  out-building,  and  the  guard  duly  mount- 
ed, Captain  Ellsworth  sprang  to  saddle,  and 
closely  followed  by  Tony,  started  at  a  gallop 
for  the  Union  camp. 

CHAPTER   XVllI. 

A  FEARFUL  SLAUGHTER. — THE  GUERRILLA 
CHIEF  AND  CAPTAIN   ESCAPE. 

In.less  than  ten  minutes  the  captain  and  Tony 
reached  the  bivouac,  and  while  the  former  was 
yet  asking  where  he  could  find  Major  Peale, 
that  officer  came  up  and  eagerly  requested  to 
be  informed  where  in  the  world  he  had  been 
for  the  last  hour  or  so,  and  what  adventures 
he  had  met  with. 

Randal  explained. 

Before  he  had  finished  the  major  ordered  the 
boot  and  saddle  call  to  be  sounded,  and  hastily 
prepared  to  mount  his  own  horse. 

"  You  can  finish  your  story  on  the  road,  cap- 
tain," he  said.  And  when  they  were  gallop- 
ing toward  the  Stan  wood  mansion,  he  abruptly 
renewed  the  conversation  with  the  remark: 

"And  so  you  were  fortunate  enough  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  Miss  Edna  Stanwood,  eh?" 

"  Tes,"  said  Ellsworth,  "  I  had  that  honor. 
She  is  a  beautiful  woman  " 

"  Magnificent.     Did  you  see  her  mother  t" 

"  Yes;  she  too  must  have  been  beautiful  in 
her  day— indeed,  she  is  so  still;  but  she  is  a 
sad  invalid." 

"Ah — yes,  a  sad  invalid,  as  you  say.  There 
is  a  dark  chapter  in  the  history  of  the  Stan- 
wood  family,  and  while  it  has  to  a  great  extent 
affected  the  general,  it  has  almost  completely 
broken  up  his  wife.  Did  you  meet  anybody 
else  at  the  mansion?" 

"Only  one  other  person,  the  sweetest— the 
most  lovable  girl  I  ever  met,  unless " 

"Ahl  who  was  that?"   asked  Peale  hastily. 

"  Miss  Penrose." 

"  You  saw  her  then  ?  And — and  (uneasily) 
you  think  her  lovely  ?  " 

"I  do,  indeed,"  was  the  emphatic  reply. 
"And  to  be  frank  with  you,  major,  I  should 
have  fallen  in  love  with  her.  had  I  not  seen 
Edna  Stanwond  first." 

"Ahl  aud  so  you  have  fallen  in  love  with 
Edna?"  exclaimed  the  major,  in  a  tone  of 
great  relief  " 

"  I  suppo-e  I'm  a  fool  to  confe.ss  it,"  said 
Randal;  "  for  it  ain't  at  all  likely  that  such  a 
glourious  being  would  ever  give  a  second 
thought  to  a  poor  devil  of  a  captain  like  me.' 

"  Why  not?"  said  Peale,  "you  saved  her 
life,  and  I  know  Edna  Stanwood,  slie  is  warm- 
hearted ami  grateful,  believe  me." 

"  She  has  a  regal  look,  and  I  should  hardly 
think " 

"  I  know  what  you  would  say,  my  friend  ; 
but  for  all  her  stately  appearance,  she  has  a 
wealth  of  affection  to  bestow  upon  the  right 
man — the  man  who  shall  win  her  heart,  I  am 
sure  of  it." 

At  this  moment  a  figure  glided  from  the  side 
of  the  road  and  approached  the  rapidly  moving 
column. 

As  it  came  near,  by  the  pale  light  of  the 
moon,  it  could  be  seen  that  it  was  a  man, 
somewhat  beyond  middle  life,  and  indeed  his 
iron-gray  looks  Indicated  that  old  age  was 
rapidly  advancing.  Still,  his  active  body  and 
strength  of  limbs  seemed  an  assurrance  that 
many  years  of  usefulness  were  yet  before 
him. 

"Stop  one  moment.  Major,"  he  exclaimed 
abruptly,  as   he   raised     his    hand,     "you're 


lookin'  fur  Hicks's  gang,  their  varmints  is  in 
ther  valley,  tother  side  o'  Stanwood  creek." 

Major  Peale  and  Randal  both  brought  their 
horses  to  a  Ftand  as  the  old  man  spoke,  and 
Peale,  in  a  tone  of  great  satisfaction,  ex- 
claimed, 

"  Farley,  by  all  that's  glorious  !" 

"  Yes,  Major,  its  me  "   nodded   the   union 

scout.     "  Nor  don't  lose  any  time,  an'  you  can 

come  down  on  ter'em  like  a  clap  o'  thunder, 

then    Cunnel   and    Capin   Jillson    ain't   with 

"  We  know  that  ;  but  can't  you  guide  us  to 
the  spot,  Farley  V" 

"Its  unpossible.  Major,  I've  got-ter  be 
thirty  miles  from  this  afore  moruin.'  You 
can't  miss  it, — in  the  valley,  just  over  the 
creek,  good  night,"  and  the  renowned  scout  of 
the  Tennessee  was  gone. 

"  That's  luck  for  us,  any  way,"  exclaimed 
Peale,   exultingly,  as  they  once  more  started 

"Tes,"  said  Ellsworth,  "  I  fancy  we  shall 
thin  out  that  gang  of  cutthroats  before  morn- 
ing now,  for  a  fact." 

A  minute  later  they  reached  the  Stanwood 
place,  and  having  left  a  sufficient  guard  to 
watch  the  prisoners,  and  permitted  Tim  and 
Tony  to  join  them,  they  started  for  the  valley 
beyond  Stanwood  creek. 

Audley  Peale  knew  exactly  how  to  conduct 
such  an  enterprise  as  the  one  on  which  they 
were  now  engaged,  and  his  force  entered  the 
valley  from  two  directions,  rendering  it  utterly 
impossible  for  the  guenillas  to  escape. 

At  length  they  came  upon  the  camp,  and 
before  their  presence  was  even  suspected,  the 
signal  for  the  attack  was  given,  and  a  fearful 
fight  ensued.  No,  it  was  not  a  fight,  it  was  a 
loody  sla 
ion  men  had  it  all  tli 
way,  and  they  smote  the  guerilla  and  spared 
not. 

Ellsworth  and  his  men  would  have  willingly 
given  quarter  :  but  when  the  carnage  was  at 
its  height,  Peale's  Tennessean's  could  not  be 
restrained,  they  only  remembered  all  the 
wrongs  they  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the 
rebels — wrongs  in  their  own  persons,  and  in 
the  persons  of  thetr  wives,  sisters,  mothers 
and  daughters,  and  so,  when  the  fight  was 
over,  not  a  guerilla  was  left  alive  on  that 
Uoody  field  ! 

It  was  fearful,  appalling;  but  many  fearful 
aud  appalling  things  occurred  during  the 
great  war  of  the  Rebellion. 

The  Union  force  suffered  very  little,  only 
one  or  two  men  were  killed,  and  less  than  a 
dozen  wounded.  More  than  a  hundred  horses 
were  captured,  and  a  large  quantity  of  arms 
aud  ammunition  was  secured. 

Just  before  daylight  the  victors  left  the 
valley,  and  again  started  for  the  Stanwood 
plantation. 

As  they  reached  the  open  gateway,  it  was 
evident  to  them  all  that  something  of  impor- 
tance had  happened  during  their  absence. 
Two  or  three  Union  men  could  be  seen  hurry- 
ing arouud  to  the  rear  of  the  house,  and  Ells- 
wiirth  counted  six  dead  bodies  in  front,  where 
only  two  had  been  a  few  hours  before. 

Then  they  saw  EUick  and  Wash  approach- 
ing, the  former  with  his  head  bound  up  in  a 
red  and  yellow  bandana  handkerchief,  and 
the  latter  with  his  left  armin  a  sling. 

"What  the  deuce  has  been  to  pay  here  ?" 
demanded  Major  Peale,  sharply,  as  they  drew 
near. 

"  Dar's  trouble  enough,  Mars'r  Major,"  an- 
swered EUick,  with  gleaming  eyes.  "  Dem 
guerrillas  got  hold  ob  de  arms  in  some  way, 
an'  we've  had  er  purty  hot  fight,  I  tole  yer. 
Cunnel  Hicks,  him  an'  Cap'n  Jillson,  dey's 
done  gone  an'  got  clean  away.  De  odder  pris- 
oners, dey  didn't  get  off,  dey — " 

"  Well,  what  of  them?"  asked  Peale,  impa- 
tiently. 

"  Dey's  done  gone    dead  —  ebery    one   on 

"And  our  men — are  any  of  them  dead  ?" 
"  No,  sah;  but  dey's  purty  much  all  on  'em 
hurt,  an'  some  mighty  bad." 

"  'This  is  serious,"  said  Ellsworth,  regret- 
fully. "  For  my  part,  I'd  rather  all  the  rest 
had  escaped  than  those  two." 


"  It  is  bad,"  rejoined  the  major,  "  and  from 
what  you  have  told  me,  I  fear  it  would  't  do 
to  leave  this  place  unguarded  while  they  are 
at  liberty.  They  are  capable  of  returning  here 
and  murdering  the  whole  family." 

"  That's  what  I  was  thinking.  'What  do 
you  propose  to  do  ?" 

"Make  this  place  our  headquarters  until 
they  are  captured  and  hung." 

"Ah!  and  you  believe  they  can  be  found?'' 

"  Look  at  that  negro  there — the  big  one,  I 
mean." 

"Well?" 

"  I'll  stake  my  life  it  was  either  Hicks  or 
Jillsen  who  cracked  his  skull  for  h'm.  He's 
bent  on  revenge.  I  can  see  it;  and  nobody 
knows  all  the  hiding  places  in  this  part  of  the 
country  as  well  as  he.  With  his  help  we  can 
track  the  scoundrels  to  their  death.  EUick, 
come  here.  Whose  work  was  that?"  pointing 
to  his  head. 

"  Cap'n  Jillson's,  sah,  de  cowardly  dog!  He 
comed  up  from  behind  an'  knocked  me  sense- 
less. Ef  he'a  a-comed  at  me  liker  man,  I 
wouldn't  say  er  word;  but  now — " 

"  You  want  to  find  him,  don't  you?" 

The  negro's  eyes  gleamed  like  lightning. 

"Never  fear,  you  shall  find  him.  Who 
winged  Wash  ?  " 

"  Ma&'r  Hicks." 

"Ahl  and  he  don't  feel  over  friendly  toward 
the  colonel,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  No,  sah!  " 

"All  right,  we'll  have  something  to  eat,  and 
let  our  horses  rest,  and  then  we'll  start  out  on 
the  trail." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

TONY  BRINGB  DOWN   THE    GUERILLA   CHIEF. 

Breakfast  was  speedily  prepared,  the  officers  ate 
theirs  together,  with  the  troopers  in  groups  at  no  great 
distance  about  them.  They  would  not  go  to  the  house 
on  account  of  the  illness  of  Mrs.  Stanwood. 

Soon  as  the  meal  was  finished  the  bugle  sounded  and 
speedily  the  squadron  was  mounted. 

As  Major  Peale  was  (.bout  to  give  the  order,  Forward ! 
Ellsworth's  eyes  happened  to  rest  on  Tony  Tibbits,  who 
was  urgin"  his  horseahead  at  a  half  trot  in  order  tojoin 
his  friend  Tim  Cooney,  who  was  calling  for  him. 

"Wait  one  moment,  Major,  if  you  please."  exclaimed 
the  Captain  abruptly.  "  I  wish  to  fulfill  a  promise  I 
made  last  night." 

"  Very  well,  but  don't  keep  the  squadron  waiting." 

"Only  a  moment,  as  I  said,"  aud  riding  forwarr" 
Ellsworth  called 

"Tibbits  I  Tibbits  !  this  way  !" 

Tony  turned,  and  mechanically  his  hand  went  up  to 

'"That  chain  and  trinket,"  said  the  Captain,  "have 
you  it  about  you  now  ?" 
"  Yes,  Captain,  I  got  it  from  Tim  a  while  ago." 
"  Very  good,  ride  on  to  the  house  and  show  it  to  the 
lady.  But  mind  I  if  she  detains  yon  over  two  minutes 
we  shall  not  wait  for  you.  We  are  going  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  valley.    You  are  not  afraid  to  ride  after  us 

"No,  sir,  not  at  all." 

"Very  well.     But  hurry  ;  and  if  you  can  rejoin  us 
immediately,  I  shall  be  better  pleased. 
Tony  at  once  dashed  off  toward  the  house. 


and  qui( 

The  door  stood  open,  and  as  he  ascended  the  steps 
Edna  Stanwood  appeared  in  the  hallway. 


Ah  I  its  you,"  she  said,  hastening  forward,  "  co 
right  in,  I  have  been  expecting  you.    But  stop  a  n 
;  good  look 


,u,  ^^^.^  ^^^u  o^peeting  >«... 
where  you  are,  and  let  me  tak 
you."    When  taking  the  boys  head  between  her  hands, 
she  gazed  down  earnestly  into  his  eyes. 
Tony  looked  up  into  her  lovely  face  wonderingly. 
"Yes,"  murmured  the  girl  at  last,  "yes,  I  too  can 
see  the  look  and  I  no  longer  marvel  at  mother's  agita- 
Bidyou  bring  the  little  keep  sake,  Anthony?" 

it  then,  and  I  will  see  if  it  is  possible 
J  you.    She  jjasscd  a  miserable 


'Yes,  Miss.' 


fori 


'Leti 


other  t 


The  capt-ain  gave  me  two  minuies.  Miss.  If  I  am  not 
bark  in  that  time  the  column  will  move  on,  and " 

"I  won't  keep  you  a  moment.  Sit  down  here  in  the 
hallway,  where  you  can  hear  my  voice  if  I  call;"  and 
Edna  haste  ed  lightly  up  the  stairs. 

She  was  gone  quite  tn  o  minutes,  and  descended  very 
slowly,  with  a  thoughtful  and  almost  troubled  look  up- 

"Tony."  she  said,  seating  herself  by  the  side  of  the 
boy,  and^  taking  his  hand  in  hers,  " my  poor  mother  is 

I  entered  her  room, 
chain  and 
id,  and  instantly  recog- 
nized it  as  one  she  had  seen  before. 

"  What  she  said  it  is  not  best  that  I  should  repeat  to 
you  now;  it  would  take  too  much  time,  and  I  am  sure 
you  are  anxious  to  rejoin  your  comrades  who  have  al- 
ready passed  down  the  road.  But  I  wish  to  ask,  are 
you  willing  to  leave  this  with  me  for  a  little  while?" 
Tony  hesitated . 

"  Y'ou  need  not  doubt  it  will  be  returned  to  you;  if—" 
"Oh,  I  am  sure  of  that,  miss,"  broke  in  Tony;  "  but 
we  may  not  comeback  this  way.  you  know." 


;ry  weak,  and  she  I 
nkelier.     However, 


22 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


'Did 

Lapuiin  Elltiwoi  th  say  boy" 

■■  Oh,  no.  miss;  but,  you  see,  we  arc  following  up 
those  guerrilla  officers —  Hicks  and  Jlllson— and  we 
don't  know  where  the  chase  may  lend  us. " 

She  thought  a  moment,  and  then  hastened  into  a  side 
room,  a  sort  of  library. 

A  minute  later  she  returned,  a  small,  three-cornered 

'■There/'  she  said,  "give  that  to  your  captain,  and 
take  my  word  for  it,  you  will  come  back  tins  way.  Now 


"Youa'rcq 
■Oh,  yes,  L 


3  the  c 


'ith  J 


'it  is  all  I  have  1 


as  your  mother's?" 
ist  remember  seeing  it  about 
neck,  with  that  curious  thing  hanging  down.  I 
w,  when  I  lay  upon  her  lap,  or  in  her  arms,  I  used 
each  up  and  play  with  it,  as  she  bent  lovingly  over 
I  know  this,"  he  continued,  musingly,  "  or  else— 
Ise,  the  thing  has  happened  in  my  dreams.  Alas,  tt 
3  little  I  do  remember,  surely 

Go— go,  boy,  at  once!"  exclaimed  Edna, 
►.  and  return  as  spet 
your  keepsake  shall 


—go,  boy,  at 
*'  go.  and  return  as  speedily  as  possible;  and 
ed  your  keepsake  shall  not  get  lost." 

1  down  the 


tedly; 


,  Tony  r 


The  squadron  was  already  out  of  sight:  but  this  did 
not  trouble  him  much,  it  only  caused  him  a  momentary 
feeling  of  annoyance.  His  mind  was  so  much  tjiken  up 
by  all  Edna  had  said  that  he  thought  of  very  little  else. 

Still,  he  felt  the  necessity  of  rejoining  his  command 
with  as  little  delay  as  possible,  and  so,  digging  his  heels 
into  the  horse's  flanks— he  had  no  spurs— he  put  him  to 
the  top  of  bis  speed. 

For  some  distance  his  way  lay  alonga  level  road,  with 
rich  open  fields  on  either  hand;  then  came  a  gradual 
rise,  and  when  he  had  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  he 
saw  that  just  before  him  the  road  took  an  abrupt  bend 
to  the  left,  and  ran  through  a  thick  woods. 

Now,  witQout  in  the  least  being  able  to  account  for 
it,  Tony  felt  a  presentiment  that  danger  lurked  in  that 
forest,  and  without  slackenmg  the  speed  of  his  horse,  he 
unslung  the  carbine  that  had  been  given  him,  loosened 
his  revolvers,  undprepaied,  asbest  he  could,  to  meetit. 

His  horse  went  down  the  hill  at  breakneck  speed,  and 
then,  suddenly,  turned  into  the  wood-hordered  road, 

Tony  was  now  on  the  alert;  his  eyes  were  searching 
the  underbrush  on  either  side  for  the  slightest  indica- 
tion of  a  lurking  enemy. 

All  at  ouce  he  thought 
branch  of  a  low  bush  oe 

He  took  another  look,  and  was  sure  he  saw  the  neck 
and  shoulder  of  a  man,  and  then  the  barrel  of  a  short 
oarblne,  pointed  suggestively  in  his  direction,  became 
apparent  to  him. 

Instantiy    his 
"i.-ady." 

The  skulking  enemy  evidently ; 
instantly  there  was  a  flash,  folio 
and  Tony  felt 
had  been  laid  acrot^s  his  left  temple,  and  then  he  felt  the 
warm  blood  trickling  down  his  cheek. 

But  this  had  not  for  an  instant  retarded  his  action, 
and  without  checking  his  horse,  he  returned  the  tire, 
aiming  just  below  where  he  saw  the  uncovered  neck. 

A  sharp  cry  followed  the  shot,  and  there  was  a  violent 
commotion  in  the  underbrush. 

Tony  brought  his  horse  to  a  stand,  and  springing 


i  slight  movement  of  a 


carbine   was    brought 


He  quickly  ■ 


the  gray  i 


.the 


■■  Haiti"  he  cried,  sternly,  "  halt,  I  say,  or  I  firel  and 
this  time  I  shall  fire  to  kill." 

The  officer  stopped  his  onward  progress,  and  turned. 
Then  Tony  for  the  first  time  caught  sight  ol  his  face, 
and,  to  his  utter  amazement,  recognized  Colonel  Lester 
Hicks,  the  guerrilla  chief! 


CHAPTER  XX. 

TONY  ACTS  THE  PART  OF  FATHER  COWPESSOR. 

'  There's  no  use  wasting  any  more  time  on  me,  boy," 
,d  the  colonel,  gloomily;  "you've  cooked  my  goose — 
Q  done  for,  sure  as  preaching."  Then,  with  a  gasp, 
sank  down. 

n  of  the 


^fter  I 


t  the  colonel  endeavored  to  r 
;  gasped,  "  I  cannot  breathe, 


self. 

"Help  me,' 
and  again  he  i 

Tony  now  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  He  was  most 
anxious  to  hurry  on  and  rejoin  his  command,  and  yet 
he  did  not  like  to  leave  the  apparently  dying  man. 

While  he  was  considering  what  course  it  was  best  to 
adopt  the  gurrella  chief  suddenly  made  another  effort 


1  the  ^ 


'any  kind  was 


the  stuff  was  enough 
sick,  and  he  invariably  kept  as  far  away  from  it   as 
possible.    So  he  was  obliged  to  say  : 

"  I  haven't  got  any,  sir." 

"I have."  gasped  the  colonel  and  indicated  his  right 
hand  breast  pocket. 

Tony  quickly  unbuttoned  his  coat  which  had  been 
tightly  buttoned  across  his  chest,  and  felt  in  the  inside 
pocket. 

The  first  thing  his  hand  encountered  was  an   oblong 

out  and  threw  upon  the  ground,  and  then  freling  again, 
he  found  the  flask  of  which  he  was  in  search. 

He  took  out  the  cork,  and  with  a  grimace  of  disgust, 
raised  the  head  of  the  wounded  man,  and  held  the  flask 
to  his  lips. 


)k  a  long  draught,    and  iben,  in  a 

d ; 

a  little  higher,  and  place  my  back 

;  difficulty,  did  bo. 

Qg  the  almost  helpless  man,  his  foot 

ith  the  side  pocket-book  and  ttxrned 


from  his  lips. 

"Miss  Stanwood  I"  he  murmured,  in  a  lower  tone, 
and  gazed  long  and  earnestly  at  the  picture. 

Surely  it  seemed  to  dawn  upon  him  that  the  picture 
was  not  an  exact  likeness  of  the  Jkliss  Stanwood  from 
whom  he  had  parted  a  little  while  before,  there  was 
something  mure  subdued,  more  gentle,  perhaps,  re- 
vealed in  the  face  before  him.  It  reminded  him  of 
something  that  had  struck  Mm  in  Flora  Penroye's  quiet 
features. 

Then  too  the  picture  was  a  very  old  one— ten  or  fifteen 
years  at  least,  and  yet  it  represented  a  woman  of  be- 
tween eighteen  and  twenty  years. 


■  It  must  be  her 

The  greater  part  of  tliese  were  directed  to  Lester 
Hicks,  and  a  little  package  of  half  a  dozen  or  more,  tied 
with  narrow  blue  ribbon,  had  indorsed  upon  it—"  From 
Edith." 

The  nest  one  he  took  up,  and  which  was  addressed  to 
Giles  Tibbits,  was  indorsed— "  From  Silvester  Stover, 
Gettysburg.  Penu." 

Another  exclamation  burst  from  Tony--an  exclama- 
tion that  roused  Colonel  Hicks  from  the  lethargy  into 
which  he  had  fallen. 

"  What's  that  ?"  he  asked,  looking  up  suspiciously. 

"Nothing."  answered  Tony,  hastily  gathering  up  the 
papers,  letters  and  picture,  and  thrusting  them  into  the 
pocket-book,  which  he  slipped  in  his  side  jacket. 

Then  once  more  turning  to  the  wounded  man  he  said  : 


Hicks,  you  said  i 


know  it.     See  where  yo 
am.  bleeding  to  death 


With  that  he  gave  a  gasp,  aud  a  large  quantity  of 
'  said  the  boy,  "even  if 


blood  flowed  from 

"It's  an  awful  thing 
one  be  fully  prepared;  how  mucn  more  lerrioie, 
he  has  not  ma^e  his  peace  with  God.  I  am  bu 
colonel,  but  let  me  say  to  you,  if  yon  have  anytl 
your  mind,  now— if  there  is  any  great  wrong  you  have 
ever  done,  it  might  ease  your  conscience  to  confess  it; 
and  anything  I  can  do  to  help  you  right  that  wrong,  you 
mayrest  assured  ' 


"There  is  little  l 
said  Tony,  firmly, 
beg,  I  entreat  you, 


'ill  do  i 
;  lef  L  to  ( 


I  really  be  the  caae 


though,  and 
do  alii: 


nurderer?  That's  a  good  ( 


"  You  forget  you  first  fired  at  me." 
"  But  I  saw  you  raise  your  carbine.' 
ely  a  precautionary  i 


'  That  ^ 


Well,  well,  I  understanu.  And  see  here,  boy,  there 
is  an  awiul  load  on  my  mind— murder,  double  murder, 
in  fact,  kidnapping,  forgery,  and  robbery —ay,  the  worst 
kind  of  robbery,  robbing  the  helpless  orph-  " 

"And  the  burden  of  all  these 
at  this  awful  moment?" 


Is  there  nothing  you  can  do 
make  someattoncmeuti' 

For  a  moment  the  dv  ng  man 
opening  nis  ejLs    tht 

jouugHdbet 


ighs  upon  you 

lift  It/    Can  you  not 

s  silent  At  length 
8  of  which  had  hun^ 
g  iZL  upon  the  bra\  e 


;  brief,  b 
\oulJiowtl     hoi 
len    I  was  capture! 

}  the  residence  of  om 


\  here   with  a  n  iml  ei  of  my 

til  ht  by  Capta  u  L  1  u   ith 
1  am  \\a^  juui   eit  11    that 

f  tl     oldest  md  pi    ud     1 1   mi 

man  who  has  been  the  father 


The  oldest  child  was  a  daughter  then  there  were 
':on<i  ind  d  n"ht  r=i  and  at  last  another  g  rl  I  hat 
II         Hi  tt-Kt  born  IS  all  of  h  s  ch  Idicn  that  is 

1  and  he  was  t-ilent  so  long  Tonj 

led 

t  1  1  Mtl  ha\e  to  bpeak— Ed  th     She 

w    Ha^rand   st  t  1^    ytt  geutl     and  cunhii^  woman 

and  beautitul  aba  dream      Edna  look-^  vtij  much  like 

her  but— Edra  isnotElith 

The  colonel  s  head  hud  f  lien  forw  ird  unt  1  his  chin 


CHAPTER  XXI 


\ed  before    and    he    I  bclit 


Wt  11  ihen  came  mv  accomipli^ht- 1  co  is  n—  \ntoine 
Warsden  the  only  son  and  heir  of  Govenor  Warsden 
the  wealthiest  man  in  all  this  southern  country  and 
saw  my  Edith,  and  there  was  no  more  chance  for  me 


"Father,  mother,  the  girl  herself,  all  received  him 
with  open  arms,  and  before  I  hardly  had  time  to  catch 
my  breath,  they  were  married,  and  my  happiness  and 
prospects  were  blighted  for  ever. 

"  I  saw  my  prospects  were  blighted,  for  more  than 
mere  love  was  concerned  in  all  this,  I  had  hoped  to  keep 
Antoine  single,  in  case  of  his  death  I  became  sole  heir 
to  the  Marsden  estates,  and  now  my  affairs  were  in  such 
a  condition  that  the  possession  of  mv  cousin's  fortune 
had  become^  I  believed,  absolutely  necessary  to  me. 

"I  was  still  brooding  over  my  fancied  wrongs  when 
the  news  reached  me  that  Goveuor  Marsden  was  dead— 
his  wife  had  died  a  year  or  more  before— and  thus  my 
cousin  andcuccessful  rival  was  in  full  possession  of  his 
colossal  ortune. 

"I  gnashed  my  teeth    in   rage,     She   whom  I  had 
loved,  and  who  had  scorned  me,  was  now  placed  on  the 
very  pinnacle  of  wealth  and  power,  i 
look  down  upon  me  with  cold  disdaii 

'Should  I  submit?  Should  I  quietlv  permit  her  to 
enjoy  tall,  whilel  was  poor  and  miserable  ? 

*■  By  the  Eternal  1  No  I 

"  1  swore  to  ruin  the  false  couple,  I  swore  to  possess 
myself  of  all  that  was  theirs,  and  deliberately  I  went  to 
work  to  accomplish  my  purpose, 

"  Months  roiled  by.  I  saw  that  I  had  a  hard  task  yet 
before  me;  but  just  as  I  was  beginning  to  think  I  could 
sec  daylight.  I  had  another  setback,  word  came  that  a 
son  and  heir  had  been  born  to  them. 

"  I  swore  to  delay  no  longer  in  my  revenge,  which  I 
promised  myself  should  be  eo  full  and  complete  as  to 
'     lude  them  all  in  one  general  ruin . 

■   ban  d-i.vri  ting. 


I  afford 


,  1  had  many  speci 

i  I  was  what  is  called  handy 

:  take  me  long  to  draw  up  a  win  to  sun 

■At  this  time  Antoine  was  in  WashingI 


much 
n  aud 
very  young  and 


I  public 

personated  him,  and  so  the  requisite  number  of 
persons  witnessed  the  forged  will,  firmly  believing  that 
It  was  the  real  Antoine  Marsen  who  made  it, 

"Shortly  after  this— not  wishing  tc 
risk  myself,  I  got  up  a  quarrel  between 
Abner  Jillson,  who  at  that  ti 
hot  headed  fellow. 

"He  called  Marsden  out  and  killed  him,  unfairly  it 
was  said,  and  for  many  reasons  the  matter  was  hushed 
up.  I  doubt  if  even  General  Stanwood  himself  knows 
the  real  facts  to  this  day. 

"My  own  course  was  now  plain  before  me.  Edith 
had  determined  to  return  to  her  father's  house  with 
her  child.     I  resolved  to  take  that  child  from  her. 

"I  secured  the  services  of  a  trusty  man,  and  waylaid 
her  on  the  road. 

"She  became  unconscious  from  fright.     When  she 
herself,  a  dead  child,  whose  face  was  horribly 


Qed  by  a  kick  from 


dressed 
clothes,  lay  by  her  side. 

"  She  was  told  that  it  had  been  kL 
one  of  the  horses. 

"She  refused  to  believe  the  story.  She  emphatically 
declared  that  the  child  was  not  hers,  and  loudly  called 
for  her  own  darling  Doy.  And  this  cry  she  kept  up  all 
that  night  and  until  the  evening  of  the  nest  day,  when 
her  father  arrived  at  the  house  where  she  had  been  con- 
veyed, in  order  to  taKe  her  home. 

"Once  in  her  childhood's  home,  she  became  more 
quiet.  She  still  insisted,  however,  that  the  dead  boy 
was  a  stranger.  But  her  friends  thought  this  only  the 
ravings  of  an  unsound  mind,  and  so  the  little  one  wag 
buried,  aad  no  search  was  made  for  the  living  child. 

"That child  was  in  my  possession. 

"At  first  it  was  my  attention  to  kill  it;  bnt  somehow 
I  could  not  bring  myself  to  do  that.    Then  I  thought  of 

*—  vengeance. 

—  ---'10  hi 

tie  conscience.     He  nad  a  wife  living  in  Knosville, 

"He  could  be  hired  togoanywhere— do  anything,  and 
I  had  always  found  him  reliable.  There  is  such  a  thing 
as  honor  among  thie\  i 


\\cll  Iga 
North  somew  1 
ately  poor   ai 


the  child  and  told  luni  to  take  it 
■in  a  re  ideuce  seem  to  be  det-per- 
teee  that  the  brat  fetched  up  in 

I  w  ife  ga\  e  the  child  into  her  care, 

01  near  Getty  bui}  ai  d  he  man- 
1  ester  sto\cr  the  ^  lardian  of  the 
ic  tory  arr  in^ement  w  a**  made  with 


mother  d   1  ^1  e  d     of  i 
Lester  U  els  I     1     li 

His  mothc    h  -j  mott 
Tonys- thel    \  jou 


faltered  Tony       his  poor 
Ith  a  start      He  seemed  to 


Ah 


I  named  \i  I 


fatUr 

r  Antbony, 

iToiy 

ecmyco 

Ubinandhei 

t  ilT    r      I  w    T  1  r    t  1    I  f  tl    r  1  t  her  into 
f  th     L  pat    r^    wl    rh  he  intrusted  to  her 

h  ch  if  we  could  hft\e  got  hold  of  tbem, 

insured  to  me  another  fortune 


THE  WAR  LIBRARY. 


23 


Again  the  wounded  man  becam*  silent,  and  Tony  con- 
tinued thoughtfully  kneeling  by  hiy  side. 

Suddenly  the  dying  Binner  f^asped  for  breath,  and 
pointing  to  the  hulf-empty  flaak  on  the  ground,  man- 
aged to  utter  the  word— 

■•Quickl" 

Tony  picked  up  the  flask  and  held  it  to  his  lips. 

He  drank  eagerly,  and  when  at  length  the  boy  took  it 
away,  murmured  feebly: 

'*Tony  Tibbits!  Yea,  that  is  what  they  called  him, 
I  wish— I  wish— word  could  be  got  to  him.  I  wish  I 
could  right  that  poor  child's  wrongs,  at  least.  But  this 
war— nofriende- dyingliliea  dog  in  these  woods-" 

"You  would  really  like  to  see  that  boy?"  broke  in 
Tony,  "to  tell  him  you  have  wronged  him,  and  to  do 
all  tha  lies  '  ... 


.  your  power  to  j 


I  name  and  sta- 


'*  Yes,  yes,  I  would,' 


;a^er 


"I  am  he  who  has  been  known  as  Tony  Tibbits," 
was  the  quiet  reply. 

•*And  I  die  by  your  hand!  Ah,  boy,  you  have  fearful- 
ly avenged  your  parents' wrongs."  And  with  a  gasp  he 
fell  forward,  a  stream  of  blood  issuing  from  his  mouth. 

Tony  caught  him  before  his  face  touched  the  earth, 
and  endeavored  to  raise  him  up. 

It  was  useless.  He  was  already  dead.  And  so  the 
lone  boy  laid  him  on  his  back,  and  slowly  made  his  way 
to  the  road,  where  hie  well-trained  horse  was  standing. 

For  a  moment  he  stood  irresolute,  and  then,  as  he  was 
about  to  spring  to  saddle,  the  distant  sound  of  hoof- 
etrokes  fell  on  hie  ear. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Tony  turned  quickly  in  the  direction  of  the  sound, 
and  a  moment  later  caught  sight  of  half-a-dozen  mount- 
ed men  just  coming  into  view. 

Were  they  friends  or  enemies? 

At  that  distance  he  could  not  tell. 

Taking  his  horse  by  the  bridle  he  led  him  a  short 
distance  into  the  underbrush,  and  then  returned  to  hie 
post  of  observation. 

Blue  coats  1  he  was  sure  of  it,  and  in  another  moment 
he  was  quite  as  sure  that  they  were  members  of  bis  own 
company 

He  rushed  out  into  the  middle  of  the  road,  and  when 
the  advancing  squad  caught  sight  of  him,  they  sent  up 
a  loud  cheer  of  joy  and  relief,  and  put  their  horses  to  a 
gallop: 

Tony  now  saw  that  his  old  friend  Coropal  Snowden 
headed  the  squad,  and  that  the  indefatigable  Tim  rode 
close  behind. 

"  I'm  very  glad  to  find  you  safe  and  sound,  my  boy," 
said  Coropal  tinowden,  with  a  great  deal  of  feeling. 

'*  Be  ther  powers  !"  exclaimed  Tim,  'I  was  mightly 
onaisy  on  your  account,  Tony  But,  sure,  of  anything 
had  happened  to  you.  I'd  have  murthered  every  ribel  in 
their  confederacy,  so  I  would." 

"Do  you  want  to  know  an  easy  way  for  doing  that, 
Tim  r  asked  Ed.  Lillie  slyly. 

"Shore,  thin,  I  do." 

'*  Just  talk  French  to  them,"  said  Ed,  amid  a  shout 
of  laughter. 

"  Oh,  go  long  wid  yer. "  cried  the  disgusted  Tim. 

"  Where's  your  horse,  Tony  ?"  asked  Pender  at  this 


Corporal  Snowden,  somewhat  impatiently,  we  must  re- 
join the  squadron  without  delay. 

"  What,  did  you  come  out  on  purpose  to  fi.nd  me  ?" 
asked  the  boy: 

'*  Certainly,  the  captain   got  very  uneasy    on  your 

"  Shure,  thin,  don't  I  bes  tillin  yer  that  it  was  me  self 
that  got  onaisy"  exclaimed  Tim,  "and  I  wouldn't  give 
ther  captain  any  pace  till  he  sent  us.' 

"  Have  you  found  either  of  the  escaped  prisoners  ? 
asked  Tony,  without  making  any  movement  toward  his 

"No;  but  what  did  you  stop  here  for?"  asked  the 
corporal. 

"Dismount,  all  of  you,  and  I  will  show  you." 

Wonderingly,  they  dismouuted,  add  Tony  led  the 
way  to  the  spot  where  the  dead  guerilla  chief  was  lying . 

An  exclamation  of  astonishment  burst  from  their 
lips  as  they  ciiught  siglit  of  the  dead  body,  and  then 
turning  to  Tony,  Corj-oral  Snowden  asked  : 

"Is this  yuurwork,  boy  ?" 

Tony  gave  an  affirmative  nod. 

"Well,  we  must  hurry  back  now,"  said  Snowden, 
"  and  the  question  is.whut  shall  wedo  with  the  body  V 

"I  should  pay,  leave  it  right  where  it  is  until  we  re- 
turn," said  Lillie. 

"Ah,  but  are  we  sure  to  come  back  this  way?"  asked 
the  corporal. 

**I  should  say  yes." 

"Then  we'll  leave  it.*' 

"  One  moment,"  said  Pender.  "  He  was  the  leader  of 
all  the  guerillas  in  these  parts;  he  may  have  had  im- 
portant papers  about  him." 

"Right,  my  boy;  Inever  thoughtof  that;  we'llsearch 
the  boay,"  and  immediately  they  did  so. 

They  were  richly  rewarded  for  thtir  pains,  for,  as 
Ellsworth  had  neglected  to  do  more  than  disarm  his 
prisoners  the  night  before,  they  now  found  in  a  secret 
pocket  on  the  inside  of  his  undershirt,  impurtiint  papers 
from  the  rebel  commanding  general,  and  also  certain 
memoranda,  showing  where  the  guerillas  had  buried  the 
greater  part  of  their  plunder,  together  with  important 
papers  and  documents  of  a  private  nature. 

"This  has  been  a  lucky  day  for  you,  Tony  Tibbits," 
said  Corporal  Snowden,  exultiiigly.  ''  Your  share  of 
the  booty  will  be  pretty  lar^e,  I  can  tell  you." 

"Idon'twantacent's  worthof  it  "  cried  Tony,  earn- 
estly. "Let  my  share  be  divided  among  my  brave 
comrades.  If  they  see  fit  to  promote  me,  1  shall  be 
glad— because,"  he  added,  promptly,  "1  ought  to  be 
I  something  more  than  a  mere  drummer  boy;  but  I  ask, 
and  will  have  no  other  reward." 

■That's  strange,"  murmured  Snowden. 


They 


"Be  dad,  ther  by's  proud— jist  loike  meeelf."  ex- 
claimed Tim.    "  He's  got  good  blood  in  his  veins." 

"And  have  you,  Tim?"  asked  Lillie. 

"Have.!  Shure,  thin,  an'  didn'tyer  knowl  wasther 
direct  descendant  av  wan  av  ther  greatest  avail  ther 
kings  avowIdOireland?" 

'•l^everheardof  it;; 

The  boys  sent  up  a  shout  of  laughter,  amid  which  the 
order  to  mount  was  heard. 

They  were  quickly  in  the  saddle,  and,  at  a  lively  trot, 
rode  once  more  in  the  direction  of  the  valii-y. 

As  ihey  entered  it,  they  saw  the  whole  column  advanc- 
ing toward  them. 

"Wait  one  moment,"  called  out  Corporal  Snowden, 
"I  have  somethingof  the  utmost  importance  to  report." 

The  column  was  brought  to  a  halt,  and  wonderingly, 
Major  Peale  and  Captain  Ellsworth  rode  toward  the 
little  squad. 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  the  former. 

•'In  the  first  place,"  answered  Snowden,  "Colonel 
Hicks  is  dead!" 

"Dead!    Who  killed  him,  and  where?" 

"Tony  Tibbits  shot  him."  was  the  answer,  "  and  he 
lies  in  the  woods  to  the  east  of  the  road,  about  a  mile 
from  this." 

"Did  you  find  any  papers  on  the  body?"  asked  Peale, 
eagerly. 

■'  The  most  important,  major." 

"Where  are  they?" 

Snowden  handed  him  all  the  papers. 
Captain.wemustexamine  these  at  once,"  said  Peale. 
"  -iy  did  BO,  and  after  deciding  that  most  of  them 
must,  be  sent  to  the  commanding  general  without  delay, 
considered  the  memoranda  relating  to  the  buried  plun- 
der. 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Peale,  suddenly,  "the  spot  he  de- 
scribes is  close  by;  I  can  find  it  with  very  little  trou- 
ble.   Come!" 

"  We  shall  want  help  ?'^ 

"  Yes,  let  those  fellows  of  yours  accompany  us." 

Ellsworth  gave  the  necessary  command.  Peale  left 
the  column  in  charge  of  one  of  his  officers,  and  accom- 
panied by  Ellsworth  and  the  party  that  hadfound  l^ny, 
proceeded  to  hunt  for  the  spot  where  the  guerrillas' 
booty  was  hurried. 

After  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  search  they  found  it,  and 
Peale  at  once  exclaimed  : 

"  Somebody  has  disturbed  the  earth  here  within  half 

"  Within  five  minutes,  I  say."  amended  Lillie. 

"  Yes,  by  Jove,  and  here's  a  spade  hidden  under  these 
bushes."  said  Pender,  drawing  forth  the  useful  article. 

"  Where's  those  two  niggers  ?  "  asked  Peale. 

"  Out  yonder,"  answered  someone. 

"  call  them." 

EUick  and  Wash  were  called,  and  were  soon  throwing 
out  dirt  at  a  lively  rate,  the  former  with  the  spade,  the 
latter  with  a  piece  of  board  he  had  picked  up. 

Ellsworth's  extreme  impatience  would  not  permit  him 
to  be  an  idle  spectator,  and  so  unbuckling  hissword  and 
throwing  it  aown,  he  too  seized  a  piece  of  board,  which 
at  some  time  had  formed  the  side  of  a  box,  or  some- 
thing of  the  kind,  and  went  to  digging. 

Tony  mecanically  picked  up  the  captain's  sword,  and 
as  mechanically  drew  it  from  the  scabbard  and  examin- 
ed the  blade. 

A  slight— a  very  slight  rustling  in  the  bashes  to  his 
left,  and  just  back  of  the  parly  digging,  attracted  his 


n  that  direction  for  an  inf 
►  the  ground,  the  sword  wa 
nd  he  was  in  the  bushes. 


arm  Itself  V 

and  the  shot  struck  the  gn 

the  slightest  barm. 

"  There."  cried  Tony  sternly,  pointing  to  the  severed 
member,  "  there  lies  the  hand  and  arm  that  was  up- 
raised to  take  my  father's  life.— Villain  I  Scoundrel  1 
Murderer  of  an  innocent  man  I  know  that  your  just 
punishment  has  been  inflicted  by  the  sonof  Antoine 
Marsden  1  " 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 


the 


Captain  Abner  Jillson,  who  it  was  that  lay  bleeding 
on  the  ground,  on  hearing  Tony's  declaration,  looked 
up  into  the  boys  face,  with  an  expression  of  the  utmost 


'  My  God 
By  this  ti 
;'ere  lookii 


Atl 


gth^ 


■oine  Marsden's  son  ? "'  he  gasped. 

vhole  party  had  gathered  round,  and 
Touytohis  ----    -     - 

took  Tony  o 


"  My  right "naino  is  Antoine  Marsden,"  aut^wered  the 
boy,  "and  I  am  the  eon  of  that  Antoino  Marsden.  whom 
this  man  i;illed  su  trecherously  in  a  so-called  duel." 

Major  Peale  now  regarded  the  drummer  boy  with  pro- 
found respect. 

Governof  Marsden's  grandson  then  ? "  he 


'  Yes.' 


you  Edna's  nephew? 


,  grandson  of 
claimed  Ells- 


Th<'y  tiiriK.'d  toward  the  inutiiaL>-'a  guerilla.      He  had 

and  w^as  re^ardinti  it  attentively. 

With  a  BiL^h  he  dropped  it,  and  with  a  more  profound 
sigh,  fell  back  upon  the  ground. 

"Can  we  do  anything  for  you,  captain?"  asked  Ells- 
worth, in  a  compassionate  tone. 

"Yes— if  you  will." 

"What  is  it?" 


>  death,  and  all  the  e 


"Let  me  die  in  peace." 
"But  must  you  die?" 
"  Of  course.    I  am  bleeding  t 
geons  in  your  army  couldn't  sa 
"  Very  well,  you  shall  have  y( 
"One  thing  more." 
"Well?" 


and  bury  me.  You'll  find  much  that  belongs  to  that 
boy  there,  as  well  as  property  of  the  Stanwoods." 

"  You  shall  be  buried  as  you  desire." 

"  Now  leave  me." 

They  turned  away. 

The  digging  proceeded,  and  treasure  to  a  large  amount 
was  brought  to  light,  together  with  title-deeds  and  the 
valid  wilFo"™       '    "    • 


:e  was  dead,  and  from  the  expression  on  his  face,  it 
I  evident  he  had  died  in  mortal  agony. 
:e  was  hastily  buried,  and  then,  having  made  pro- 
on  for  the  transportation  of  the  treasure,  Majo 


Peale  ordered  the  s 
"Forward! 


the 


the  order,  and  in  less  than  tei 
Stanwood  mansion. 
Edna  and  Flora  met  Peale.  Ellsworth  and  Tony 
door,  and  requested  them  to  ascend  to  Mrs.  Stanwood's 

As  they  entered  they  noticed  that  the  invalid  lady  had 
a  gold  chain,  with  a  curious  trinket  attached. 

^'  Step  this  way,"  she  said. 

They  di^l  so. 

She  held  out  the  trinket,  at  the  same  time  toucliing  a 
concealed  spring. 

It  flew  open,  and  revealed  on  either  side  a  picture— 
noble-Jooking  man,  the  other  a  beautiful  lady. 


picture  of  a  bright-eyed,  laughing  boy. 

"Now,"  asked  Mrs.  Stanwood  solemnly,  at  the  ean 
time  pointing  to  Tony,  "whose  son  is  he?" 

'       ■ swered  the  major  promptly 


ith's,"  said  Flo 

"  He  is  your  grandson,  dear  mother,"  exclaimed  Edna, 
throwing  her  arms  about  her  mother's  neck. 

"  There  could  be  no  possible  doubt  with  what  you  now 
show  us,"  said  Ellsworth  earnestly,  ••but  without  the 
help  of  that  locket,  the  boy  himself  has  already  estab- 
lished his  identity  to-day  and  more,  has  avenged  hie 
father's  death.'' 

"  How  is  that?  "  exclaimed  the  lady,  eargerly. 

-  -" -   -  ,told. 


As  Ellsworth  began  Tony's  story,  a  noble-looking, 
gray-hairea  man,  wearing  the  uniform  of  a  general  offi- 
cer in  the  Union  army,  quietly  entered  the  room  and 
stood  unnoticed  just  within  the  doorway,  his  eyes  in- 
tently fixed  on  the  boy,  while  he  drank  in  the  captain's 

Now  he  sprang  forward,  and  folding  Tony  in  his  arms, 
exclaimed: 

"My  boy— my  dear— dear  boy,  thank  God  I  have 
found  you  at  last.-Edna,  you  are  quite  sure  all  those 
papers  are  safe?" 

Yes.  father.    Ellick  and  Wash  took  care  of  that." 

"Then  Tony's  fortune  will  be  as  great  as  ever  was 
the  governor's— his  grandfather,  and  those  two  faithful 
fellows  are  no  longer  servants  but  friends.  Now  let  us 
all  have  a  little  family  talk  together,  and  plan  for  the 
future  until  dinner-time.  Don't  go,  major,  I  know  the 
state  of  your  own  and  Flora's  heart,  and  captain,  I  must 
ever  consider  you  as  one  of  us,  you  have  been  such  a 
faithful  guardian  to  this  boy." 

"  I  should  certainly  like  to  be  one  of  you  in  fact,  and 
if  "—turning  to  Edna  and  holding  out  his  hand— "  I 
have  read  your  heart  aright " 

"Oho!  that's  the  way  the  matter  stands,  is  it  ? 
have  my  consent,  if  you  can  get  hers?" 
the  captain's, 
led  the  general, 


ii£ 


You 


•pris 


really  broke  up  tl 
'  mant-colonel 
>  ?  you  ought  t 


►  have  a  hundred 


"  iVe  lost  them,''''  replied  the  major  gravely. 

"  Yes,"  added  Ellsworth,  "and  I  very  much  fear, 
they'll  never  be  found  in  this  world agaiu." 

Ellsworth  was  no\v  advanced  to  the  rank  of  paajor, 
Small  became  second  lieutenant,  Snowden  was  made  a 
sergeant,  and  Duffy  and  Tony  became  corporals. 

A  little  later  the  Twentieth  was  ordered  to  join  Sher- 
man on  his  advance  on  Atlanta. 

They  saw  some  terrible  fighting,  and  their  numbers 
were  frightfully  thinned  out. 

Atlanta  ell, and  then  thegrand  march  to  thesca  began. 

Tony  was  made  a  sergeant  on  the  field  belorc  Atlan- 
ta, for  gallant  conduct  unrter  fire.  And  now,  to  his 
great  joy,  he  found  himself  a  commissioned  ofticer, 
with  an  appointment,  on  his  grandfathers  staff. 

The  war  is  over,  the  army  disbanded.  Major— now 
Colonel  Peale  and  Flora  Penrose  are  married  and  live 
on  the  Peale  plantation,  but  a  short  distance  from  her 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Ellsworth  and  Edna  are  also 
man  and  wife,  aud  reside  at  the  Stanwood  mansion. 

Tony,  after  graduating  at  Yale,  aud  marrying  a  pret- 
ty Yankee  girl,  has  settled  down  on  the  old  Maredsn  es- 
tate, where  he  lives  to  this  day,  surrounded  by  a  large 
family  of  children. 

Peter  Small  left  the  army  a  captain;  Snowden  chang- 
ed into  luiotlier  regiment,  and  became  a  major.  Tim 
Cooney  stuck  to  Tony,  and  is  now  his  overseer.  The 
other  boys  all  turned  out  well,  and  thank  God.  are  all 
alive  to-clay,  to  read  this  story  of  their  trials  and  adven- 
tures while  fighting  the  battles  of  the  Union. 


THE  WAB  LIBRARY. 


THE  WAR  LIBMRY 

Contains  Historic  Tales  of  the  War  for  the  Union.     Original,  full  of  life,  daring  advent- 
ures, love,    intrigue  and  patriotism — 

The  Unwritten  History  of  the  War. 


20-BATTLE  BEN.    By  Morris  Redwing. 

2  I -SHOULDER-STRAPS.    Wiimot. 
22-SEVEN  PINES.    By  Warren  Walters. 
23-SABER  AND  SPUR.     B.v  ^fon  Myrtle. 
24    FICHTINC    FOR  FAME.    Redwing. 
25-DASHINC  O'DONOHOE.    Carlton. 
26-IRON  AND  STEEL.  Major  A  F.Grant. 

27  THE   FATAL    CARBINE.    Wilmot. 

28  MALVERN  HILL.    Morris  Hoyne. 

29  GUNBOAT    DAVE.    Redwing. 
30-RIVAL  CAPTAINS-    Oram  Eflor. 

3  I  -HARD-TACK.    Major  Walter  Brisbane. 
32-YANKEE  STEVE.    Morris  Redwing. 
33-FARRACUT'S  SPY.    A.  F.  Grant. 
34-MISSION     RIDCE.    By  Major  Wilmot. 
3S-CHAIN-SHOT.    By  Colonel  oram  Eflor. 
36    FIVE  FOKS.    By  Corporal  M.  Hoyne. 
37-CAPTAIN    IRONWRIST.    By    Major 

Walter  Wilmct. 
38-THE  LOST  CAUSE.    By  M.  Redwing. 
39-CAMP  FIRES.    By  Warren  Walters. 
40-M0RCAN'S  ROUCH-RIDERS.    By 

Major    A.  F.  Grant. 
4i-BETWEEN  THE  LINES.    By   Morris 

Redwing. 
42    THE  CAVALRY  GUIDE.    By  John  W. 

43-HARPER'S  FERRY.    By  Major  Wal- 

44-SHERIDAN'S  RIDE.    By  Roland  Dare. 
45-CLEAR  GRIT.     By  Marline  Manly. 

46  THE  RIVAL  COURIERS.    By  Harry 

47  BEFORE  PETERSBURG.    By  Major 


DOWN  IN  DIXIE.    By  Hugh  Allen. 

LIBBY  PRISON.By  Colonel  Oram  Eflor. 

WAR'SALARM.     By  Morris  Redwing. 

UNDER  FIRE.    By  Anthony  P.  Morris. 

MARCHING  ON.    By  Marline  Manly 

SWORD  AND  SASH.ByMon  Myrtle. 

BORDER  GUERRILLAS.  Hoyne. 
-MOSBY'S  TRAIL.  By  Morris  Redwing. 

BLACK  CUDJO.    By  Lieut.  Keene. 

BRAVE     COLONEL     KELLY.     By 

Bernar.l  Wuy.le. 

ISLAND  NUMBER   TEN.    Frazier. 

WINNING   HIS  SPURS.  By  Redwing. 

A  YANKEE  MIDDY.  By  Edwards. 
-COLD    HARBOR.    By  ItolandDare. 

FIGHTING  JOE  HOOKER.    Manly. 

BOMB  PROOF.  By  Anthony  P.  Morris. 

A  SOLDIER  OF  FATE.  By  Col.  Eflor. 

CUSTER  AND  HIS  MEN.  By  Manly. 

THE  ARMY    DETECTIVE.    Eflor. 

IN  FOR  THE  WAR.  By  Ward  Edwards 
-OLD  POTOMAC.  By  Colonel  Leslie, 
-PIONEER  PETE.  By  Monis  Kr.iwing. 
-UNION   JACK.     By  Ward  Ivhvanls. 

OUT  WITH   KILPATRICK.    K.™. 

ROUGH  AND  READY.    By  Morris. 

THE  SKY  SCOUTS.     By  Oram  Eflor. 

DARING  MICKEY  LOFTUS. 

SKIRMISHER  SAM.    Aleck  Forbes. 

FORTSUMTER.  By  Major  A.P.Grant 

FACING  THE  FOE.  By  Ward  Edwards. 

VETERANDAN.    By  Morris  Redwing. 

WILSON'S  CREEK.    DukeDuncan. 

UNDERGUARD.  By  Morris  Hoyne. 
-BATTERY  BOB.    By  A.  P.  Morris. 

SIGNAL  SERVICE  SAM.  Edwards. 
-THE  WAR  DETECTIVE.    By  Grant. 


84-PHIL,  THE   SCOUT.    By  Ilean  Verne. 
85-MAJOR  HOTSPUR.    Marline  Manly. 
86    "  TO    HORSE."    By  A.  P.  Morris. 
87-LOYAL    NED.    By  the  author  of  "  Be- 
fore IVtersburg." 
88-SHILOH.    By  Ward  Edwards,  U.  S.  V. 
89-BATTLE    SMOKE.    By  Hugh  Allen. 
90-SHARPSHOOTER  DICK.    By  Grant. 
91-ANTIETAM.    By  Anthony  P.  Morris. 
92    CAVALRY    SAM.    By  Capt.  M. Wilton. 
93 -FREDERICKSBURG.    By  A.  Forbes. 
i>4-BLUE  OR  GRAY.    By  Ward  Edwards. 
95    BURNT  POWDER.    By  A.P.  Morris. 
96-VICKSBURG.    By  Corporal  M.  Hoyne. 
97-A  NIGHT  IN  DIXIE.    By  J.  M.  Merrill. 
98-ON  TO  RICHMOND.    By  A.F.Grant. 
99-PITTSBURG  LANDING.    Duncan. 
ICO    BULLET  AND  BAYONET. 
lOf     FORT  FISHER.    By  Maj.  A.  F.  Grant. 

102  PRISON  PEN.    By  Marline  Manly. 

103  THE  SHENANDOAH  RIDER. 

I  04  FIGHTING  PAT  ;  or,  The  Boys  of 
the  Irish  Brigade.  By  Bernard  Wa.yde. 

I05-THE  COLOR  BEARER;  or,  Se- 
cret of  the  Old  Knapsack.  A  stir- 
ring Romance  of  the  Siege  of  Knoxyille. 
By  Aleck  Forbes,  War  Correspondent. 

I06-TRUE  BLUE;  or.  The  Union 
Scout  of  Tennessee.  A  Rousing  Tale 
of  Hood's  Last  Campaign.    By  A.  F.  Grant. 

I07-IN  THE  RANKS;  or.  Camp  and 

Conflict.    By  Mon  Myrtle. 
1 08    CROSSED    SWORDS;   or.    Last 

Charge  at    Antietam.    By  Corporal 

Morris  Hoyne. 
I09'LI0N-HEARTED  LUKE;  or.  The 

Plan  to   Capture   Mosby.    A  story 

ot  Perilous  Adventure  in  the  War  of  the 
Rebellion.    By  Ward  Edwards,  U.  S.  V. 

I  IO~BIVOUAC  AND  BATTLE;  or. 
The  Rivals  in  Blue.  A  Romance  of 
Sherman's  North  Carolina  Campaign.  By 
Corporal  Morris  Hoyne. 

I  I  l-THE  SWORD  CHAMPIONS;  or. 
Rival  Spies  of  Chanceltorsville. 
A  Story  otlhe  Battles  in  the  Thickets  of  the 
Rappahannock.    By  Anthony  P.  Morris. 

II2-THROUGH  FIRE;  or.  Battling 
for  the  Union,  a  story  of  the  Last 
Campaign  in  Virginia.  By  Major  Walter 
Wilmot. 

I  13  MUZZLE  TO  MUZZLE;  or.  The 
Mountain  Bushwhackers,  a  Rat- 
tling Romance  of  the  Cumberlands.  By 
Captain  Edward  Park. 

I  14-THE  RIVAL  CADETS;  or.  From 
West    Point   to   Battlefields.     By 

Ward  Edwards,  U.  S.  A. 

I  i5-SHERIDAN'S  SPY;  or.  How  the 
Shenandoah     was     Redeemed. 

ley.  By  WarnoMmer,V.'u"''"'°" '" 
116    ON    THE    CHICKAHOMINY;   or, 
The  Fortunes  of  a   Yankee   Cor- 
poral.   By  Ward  Edwanl.s  r.  S.  V. 
I  17-FIGHTINC  FOR  THE  FLAG;  or. 
The  Reign  of  Terror  in  Tennes- 
see.   A  Startling  Revelation  of  the  Late 
War.    By  J.  M.  Merrill. 
I  18-FARLEY,  THE  SCOUT  ;   or.   Old 
Stars'  Path  to  Glory.    A  Thrilling 
Romance|of  General  Mitchell's  Raid  through 
'   ■     ■  By  Major  Walter 


and  Alaban 


Ten 

Wilmot. 

19-DOWN  IN  VIRCINIA;or,Daring 
Adventures  of  a  Union  Scout.  By 

M.  C.  Walsh. 


I20-MARCHING  THROUGH  GEOR- 
GIA ;  or.  Perils  of  an  Irish  Fire- 
brand.   By  the  Author  of  Mission  Ridge. 

I2I-THE  MYSTERIOUS  MAJOR;or, 

Was  He  Blue  or  Gray  ?  By  Corporal 
Morris  Hoyne. 

122-CHICKAMAUGA;  or,  The  Artil- 
lery Scout.  A  story  ot  the  Chattanooga 
Campaign.    By  Lieutenant  Mackintosh. 

123-THE  SIGNAL  FLAG;  or.  Vult- 
ures of  the  Battlefield.  A  Narra- 
tive of  the  Cloud  Battles.  By  Colonel  Oram 
Eflor. 

124-SHELBY'S  MEN;  or.  The  Last 
Shot  of  the  War.  a  Rousing  Romance 
of  the  Southwest.    By  Colonel  Leon  Lenoir. 

125-BAYONET  BEN;  or.  Through 
Fire  to  Fame.  A  RatUing  Recollection 
of  the  Red  River  Campaign.  By  Major  A. 
F.  Grant. 

126-THE  MISSISSIPPI  SCOUT;  or. 
How  the  Batteries  were  Run.  A 
Thrilling  Tale  of  Vioksburg,  By  Ward  Ed- 
wards, U.  S.  ^^ 

127-GRANT,  "THE  HAMMERER;" 
or.  The  Terrible  Path  to  Fame.  A 
Narrative  of  the  Wonderful  Operations  Be- 
fore Petersburg.  By  Hugh  Allen,  of  the 
New  York  Prose. 

128-THE  BLOCKADE  RUNNERS;  or. 

The  War  on  the  Coast.  A  story  of 
the  Ouise  of  the  Sea  Gull.  By  Lieutenant 
Clifford,  U.  S.  N. 

129-BEFORE  DONELSON;  or.  The 
Troopers  of  the  Cumberland.   A 

stirring  Romance  ot  Grant's  Tennessee 
Cmapaign.    By  Edgar  L.  ^'incent. 

I30~CHARGE  BAYONETS;  or.  Fight- 
ing Under  Hooker.  By  Captain  Dick 
Steadman. 

131  SOLD  FOR  A  SOLDIER;  or.  The 
Life  of  His  Regiment.  A  story  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  By  Ward  Ed- 
wards,  "  High  Private,"  U.  S.  V. 

132-UNDER  LITTLE    MAC;  or.  The 

Spy    Catcher   of   Richmond.     By 

Major  A.  F.  Grant. 
133-BATTLE  ECHOES  ;  or,  Baudin's 

Boys  at  Chantilly.    By  Major  Walter 

Brisban. . 
134-THE  YANKEE  PRIVATEER;  or. 

Afloat  and  Ashore.    A  Stirring  story 

of  a  Famous  Cruise.    By  Lieutenant  Mayne 

135-STARS  AND  STRIPES  ;  or.  The 

Siege   of  Fort   Pulaski.     By  Major 
Hugh  Warren. 
136-MAJOR    PAULINE   CUSHMAN  ; 
or.    Daring   the    Death    Penalty. 

By  Ward  Edwards,  "  High  Private  "  U.  S.  V. 
I37-UNDER1WO  FLAGS;    or.   The 

Field  of  Stone  River.    A  Graphic  Tale 

of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland.    By  Morris 

Redwing.  [Ready  April  23. 

1 38-THE   DRUMMER  BOY;   or.  Out 

With  the  Twelfth  Corps.    By  Major 

Walter  Wilmot. 
139-CANNONEER     BOB;     or.     The 

Blockade   Runner.    By  Major  A.  F. 

Grant.  [Ready  May  7. 


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